Use the Man
by Koneko Cain
Summary: He just wanted to self destruct in peace, quietly fizzle out with a minimum of hassle to Ryou, who thankfully hadn’t realized what he’d been doing. He probably never would, until it was too late. Seto, Bakura, yaoi and drug use.
1. Chapter 1

Warnings: Drug use, swearing, violence, yaoi, and all those other things that make fics so much fun.

Notes: For November novel writing month. The challenge was to write a 50,000 word novel in a month, but because all my ideas were ultimately rubbish I decided to do the same thing, only with a fic. My drug of choice is peach schnapps, so please excuse any inaccuracies. I did research this, but there's still plenty of room for errors.

Dedications: To Hangyul, for suggesting the whole novel writing thing, and putting up with my erratic and usually slightly odd emails.

Use the Man

Chapter 1

Seto Kaiba watched through narrowed eyes as Bakura arrived for the single class he took - English. He was earlier than everyone else, except Seto who was always twenty minutes early to all of his classes on principle. The former tomb robber had the usual heavy shadows beneath his eyes and his hands shook slightly as he moved to perch beside the window, across the room from where Seto sat at his desk. He was getting paler too, if that were even possible. Not that they'd spent much time together, but Seto never remembered him being so gaunt and thin back three years ago, when he'd been a wicked spirit driven by his lust for power. He certainly wasn't anything close to _that_ anymore.

"I may not be all that I once was, but if you insist on staring at me with such contempt any longer I will pluck out your eyes and present them to your beloved brother." The thief threatened, sending Seto a half smirk to show that he wasn't _entirely_ serious - only _mostly_.

"Are you sick?" Seto asked, keeping his voice cold. Bakura leant back against the window pane and closed his eyes, enjoying the moment of calm.

"That depends upon your definition of 'sick'." The thief said. "Physically, or mentally?" He grinned.

"Either. You don't look well." The brunette frowned, not particularly enjoying having a conversation which could be read as him caring. He stubbornly insisted to himself that it was merely curiosity.

"How nice that you're concerned." Bakura opened his crimson eyes a little and sent Seto a sly glance. "Let's skip past the pretending to care part, it must be uncomfortable for you. We shall get to the heart of the matter. Now let me see, why would you suddenly take an interest in me, of all the sociopaths that attend your regular classes?" The former spirit tapped a finger against his lips in thought, sitting up a little. "I expect it's sex, no? It usually is. Alright, let's get it over with. When's a good time for you?" Bakura cocked his head to the side, thoroughly enjoying the slight widening of Seto's eyes which conveyed his surprise.

"What the hell are you talking about?" The CEO demanded, glaring murderously at the thief, who laughed.

"You take things far too seriously. Well, since I cannot help but pass this class regardless of whether or not I am here, I think I will go and amuse myself elsewhere. A rare good mood like this one should not be spoiled by education. Have fun, and remember - just call when you need me." Bakura said with a wicked laugh, sauntering out of the classroom, making sure to swing his thin hips and waving cheerfully on his way.

"Damn you." Seto growled, once the door had closed behind the laughing yami. It was only once Bakura had gone that Seto realised he hadn't gotten an answer to his question.

_Are you sick?_

Well, since he wasn't likely to get a straight answer out of the subject of the question, he decided that if there was anyone who always knew the gossip, it was Yami. His deep voice could be heard out in the corridor, heading towards the English room, and Seto took a few calming breaths. If there was one person guaranteed to infuriate him other than Bakura, it was most definitely Yami. He still wasn't sure why he gave a damn. If it was what he suspected though, he was _not_ going to let it lie. And nobody else would help Bakura - he wouldn't let them. He probably wouldn't let Seto either, if the CEO was ever willing to give him a choice in the matter.

XxXxX

Once he got well away from the classroom, Bakura ducked into the alley between two of the school buildings and collapsed against the wall, sliding to the ground and scratching his back on the rough bricks. He barely felt it.

He'd managed to avoid the question of his health for now, but he was going to have to be more careful. If even someone as perpetually self-absorbed as Seto Kaiba had noticed then Yami and his crew would be forced into pretending to care - for appearances, of course - and he _really_ didn't need that. He just wanted to self-destruct in peace, quietly fizzle out with a minimum of hassle to Ryou, who thankfully hadn't realised what he'd been doing. He probably never would, until it was too late.

A weary, affectionate smile flittered across the tomb robber's pale lips for a moment and he closed his eyes again, getting comfortable against the cold wall. Poor little Ryou. He loved having the most naïve of all the hikaris, and that was saying something since Yugi was one of them. He could say anything and Ryou would believe it and just smile sweetly at him, so pleased just to have him there. He was the closest thing to a big brother Ryou would ever have, someone to protect him from all the daily bullshit from jerks who couldn't see past the fact that he was about as effeminate as it was possible to get without actually being female. They'd stopped bothering him since Bakura turned up - Ryou's brother, came over from England, blah, blah, blah. Nice cover story. Nobody touched Ryou now. If they were going to go for anyone, it would be Bakura because they had to get past him first. He was a pretty boy that could kick their asses, and that was much more threatening than Ryou. So, he was a new target, but he could handle it. They were nothing. It was a hassle, but what wasn't? As long as he had his _medicine_ he could take anything. He could do it all alone, just as long as he had that at the end of the day.

Raindrops began to fall softly around him and he leant his head back, eyes still closed, to let them fall on his face. Maybe a little nap, before the final class of the day was over. Then he had to make sure Ryou was alright and take on whoever decided to try and kick his ass today. And probably deal with Yami and his merry men, too.

Ra, life was such a hassle.

XxXxX

"Yami." Seto said coldly, his version of a greeting. The game king turned where he was sitting on the edge of his desk to regard Seto with his usual smug look.

"What d' you want, Kaiba?" Jounouchi growled, like the pharaoh's very own guard dog.

"If you're going to let it off the leash, at least train it." Seto sneered, then turned back to Yami with a glare. "I need to speak to you. Outside."

Yami, looking interested, stood up and calmed the fuming Jounouchi down with a hand on his shoulder.

"I'll be right back," he assured, and Seto wondered when he'd stopped being a threat. How did they know he wasn't trying to get Yami alone to knock him off? It wasn't as though it would have been that hard - just whack him over the head with that lump of metal he wore around his neck and tell everyone else that he was kidnapped by guys in dark cloaks. Since he had a body now he might actually stay dead, too. Added bonus.

Yami led him out of the classroom - since the lesson was over and everyone was milling about waiting for the end of the day - to one of the empty computer rooms at the end of the corridor. They were meant for revision, so no one ever went near them for anything other than screwing off lessons or sleeping off hangovers.

Once inside, and having no idea that Seto was casually thinking up ways to dispose of his body, Yami closed the door behind them and sat on one of the desks. He had an intense dislike of seats, apparently.

"So, what did you need?" The game king asked, knowing that implying that Seto needed anything would annoy him. It was so easy.

"That other Egyptian freak…" Seto began, pretending he didn't care enough to remember Bakura's name.

"Marik?" Yami cocked his head to the side, getting it wrong on purpose.

"The one with the white hair. Looks like a woman." Seto smirked, knowing how much that would have pissed Bakura off if he'd heard it.

"Oooh, Bakura. What about him?" Yami asked, toying with his puzzle. Mention of the tomb robber always bought about the powerful urge to mind crush someone. That or blast them into a wall, which was less damaging in the long run but far more enjoyable.

"Is he ill? If he is, it'd better not be contagious." Seto frowned, a distasteful look on his face. Yami grinned, always happy to find yet another person who thought Bakura was the lowest form of scum.

"I don't think he's ill, he only gets all shaky and weird towards the end of the day." Yami said. "I guarantee if you pull up his sleeve you'll see track marks. Just don't tell Ryou his yami's a junkie, that poor kid has enough to deal with just having Bakura around in the first place." The pharaoh shook his head despairingly. "Ryou deserves better than that."

"Whatever. As long as he's not spreading some plague around I don't care." Seto lied, turning away to hide his anger at Yami confirming his suspicions. At least he could cure it, and he was damn well going to. Whether he liked Bakura or hated him - or somewhere really annoying in between - he wasn't going to let him die. Not from _this_.

"What're you going to do?" Yami asked, as Seto stalked towards the door and swung it open.

"Nothing, I'm going home." Seto lied again, and he was getting quite good at it now. Ignoring whatever else Yami might have had to say, Seto walked out of the room and off out of the school, already making plans.

XxXxX

The bell for the end of the day rang and Bakura stood up slowly, moving to the entrance of his little alley and leaning against the wall there. Arms folded, he watched the rush of teenagers leaving the school grounds, glad to be free for the rest of the day. He liked to watch people just casually going about doing their boring, day-to-day things. People now had changed a lot from the way they'd been the first time he'd lived. They were much less alert, for one. Easier to rob. A sly grin slid onto his lips for a moment, watching the last few students running for the gates. It was tempting to start work early tonight. Earn a little money with the minimum of work, hone his skills as a thief little further.

Perhaps not. Over by the school gates a familiar blonde man was waiting, scanning the grounds to find him. Earning his rent was going to have to wait for after dark. He was _not_ supposed to show up here. Stepping out from his hiding place once the school yard was relatively empty, Bakura sauntered unhurriedly across the barren concrete yard towards the gates. Before he could reach his destination a hand clamped down on his shoulder and he turned, wondering how on earth he'd let anyone get that close to him without his knowledge. That fact worried him far more than the group of three thugs who stood before him, looking wary because they'd learned their lesson many times before. The first time they'd approached him they'd been sneering at him, expecting him to be as fragile as he looked. Hadn't they been disappointed. He smiled sweetly at them – something he'd learned from Ryou – and the one he'd come to know as the leader took a hesitant step back. He had a hard time understanding why they hadn't just given up yet.

"And how are we today?" The thief asked cheerfully, tired but always willing to have a little fun with his 'friends', who'd spent so long tormenting Ryou that he considered them worthy of everything he dished out. "Let us get this over with a little quicker today, I have a few things to take care of. How about you each pick a bone in your bodies and I'll just go ahead and break it – I'll let you off with one each today." Bakura said smoothly.

"Like hell, as soon as we take you down your brother is _ours._" The one on the left – that one with the red hair and the squint – glared.

"You shouldn't say such things about Ryou around me, I might have to hurt you in unnecessarily twisted ways." Bakura threatened with the same, innocent smile that never quite managed to reach his eyes. "I'm quite imaginative when it comes to ways of injuring people. Although..." Bakura tilted his head to the side, eyes fixed on the spiky-haired leader. "As I mentioned, I have things to do."

"We're not scared of you, freak." The third member of the little gang said, eyes narrowed. He was taller than average, but didn't carry it as well as Seto Kaiba managed to. There was no grace when he moved, he seemed to lurch around like someone who wasn't quite used to their own body. Perhaps it was something to do with growth spurts, Bakura mused.

"Clearly you have trouble learning from experience, then." The thief said, his smile morphing into something a little darker, offset well by the shadows beneath his eyes. He strode forward two paces to come almost nose to nose with the leader, whose name was something beginning with a 'D' that he'd never bothered to learn. "Do you know what happens when your larynx is crushed?" He asked coldly.

"Larynx?" The boy frowned, and Bakura reminded himself that the creature standing before him was just a teenager. A mortal. He wasn't on the college courses, so he was still in school from what Bakura could tell. Sixteen years old at most. That seemed _so_ young. Still, lessons were not being learned here, so clearly a harsher touch was required.

"I'll show you." Bakura laughed, whipping out an arm and slamming the edge of his hand into the teen's neck. The boy staggered back with both hands wrapped around his own neck, choking. His two friends gathered around, dithering and unsure of how to help. Bakura simply stood back and watched, folding his arms. After a few minutes the boy straightened up, still wheezing slightly and red in the face but able to breathe. It must have been quite painful, Bakura mused. Even more painful when the boy opened his mouth to say something and realized he couldn't speak.

"That would be what happens when your larynx is crushed, I suggest you see a doctor. Now, I'll be on my way, unless you two would like to play as well." Bakura purred invitingly. The two lackeys – still supporting their injured leader – glared and backed away, the same thing that happened most days. Bakura stood watching as they scurried off out of the gate, wondering if they were actually going to take the boy to a hospital. Pride might stop them, but they'd regret it. Still, he had other things to deal with. His blonde visitor had been leaning against the railings just outside the gate, watching the altercation without much interest. He'd turned to watch the three aggressors make their rather slow escape down the road, and Bakura padded quietly up behind him, waiting for him to turn back.

"What are you doing here, Keith?" The thief demanded, his tone showing crystal clear that he did _not_ appreciate the American turning up outside where Ryou went to school. The blonde turned to him and smirked, giving the thief a once-over that he didn't particularly like. "Stop looking at me like I would ever have any interest in you and answer me."

"Relax, I just came to see if you needed a little...top-up." 'Bandit' Keith grinned, pushing his sunglasses up onto his forehead.

"When I want anything from you, you will know about it. If you ever show your face here again I will kill you and go elsewhere for what I need." The thief snarled, his eyes showing the barely concealed violence that he was sorely tempted to take out on Keith.

"Ok, ok, don't do anything drastic, babe." Keith laughed, not taking the threats seriously. Bakura circled him once, looking dangerous.

"I mean it, Keith. Turn up here again and they will never find your body." The former tomb robber warned. The American followed his movements and kept that grin on his face, enjoying just watching the thief move.

"You know, if you're ever short of cash and you need a fix, there are other ways you can pay me," the blonde suggested, folding his arms. Bakura paused in his circling and laughed, then turned around and began to walk away.

"I will never be in need enough to let you paw at me, Keith." Bakura said over his shoulder, not stopping. Keith watched him go, shrugging. He happened to believe that sooner or later Bakura would come crawling back to him, begging for a hit. It was just a matter of time.

XxXxX

Once he was out of sight of Keith, Bakura sped up a little and hurried down yet another alley, somewhere he seemed to spend most of his time. On the fringes of the world, between the cracks. It was nothing new, he'd always been someone who preferred watching from the sidelines for the perfect time to strike and it had carried over into his everyday life.

Leaning against the wall, Bakura stared straight forward at the bricks opposite him, not really seeing them. His _dealer_ had turned up at the place where Ryou went to school, and for the first time the thought crossed his mind that the whole thing might not be such a good idea. He usually flatly refused to regret most of the things he did, but this time... Perhaps it would be better if he gave it up? Then again, that hour of release he allowed himself each night when he got back to his empty apartment was the only escape he really had.

Pulling himself together with more effort than it should have taken, Bakura straightened up and sighed. Off to see Ryou. Looking down at his hands, he noticed the increasing tremor there and shoved them into the pockets of his jeans, shaking his head to clear it. He could deal with this. Of course he could.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Notes: Here be chapter 2, thanks for all the lovely reviews! I was wondering what reaction I'd get for writing about a subject like this, but nobody seems too worried about it. To whoever asked - yes, I will be continuing Twist of Cain at some point after I've finished this. If I can remember where I put my plot book, that is. Anyway, enjoy.

Use the Man

Chapter 2

The walk to Ryou's usually took him around twenty minutes if he went straight there, but most nights if it was dark enough he did a little 'work' first. The route to his light's house took him through the center of Domino, and he weaved his way through the crowds of people heading home from work, occasionally bumping into whoever looked to have the deepest pockets. He had a rucksack slung over one shoulder and each wallet or purse he managed to lift went straight inside until, after about an hour, he had a full haul. The crowds thinned out as the shops closed and Bakura turned towards where Ryou's flat was, ducking into an alley and behind a large dumpster. Once there he opened his rucksack and took out the four wallets and three purses he'd acquired, taking the money out of each and emptying it back into the backpack before tossing the rest into the dumpster.

With around fifty thousand yen – because he knew how to pick his targets – for an hour's work, Bakura smirked, slung his rucksack back over his shoulder and walked the last hundred yards to his hikari's home.

Standing outside the door of the small – but larger than his – flat, Bakura hesitated a moment before pressing the bell. He always felt incredibly guilty when he went to see Ryou, even though the hikari practically begged him to come over at least twice a week. Pressing the bell at last, Bakura wondered what he'd do without Ryou. The hikari was the one person on the earth that had ever worried for him, since his family had been slaughtered thousands of years ago. Although, what Seto Kaiba had said to him today made him wonder. There had to be some reason for the CEO to be asking about his health, other than him actually _caring._ It was a well known fact that Seto Kaiba didn't give a damn about anyone except his younger brother Mokuba.

"Yami!" Ryou greeted as the door opened, closing again briefly so that Ryou could remove the chain. An instant later it flew open and Bakura caught the boy, who flung his arms around his yami affectionately.

"Hikari. Is everything alright?" The thief asked, allowing his light to lead him inside like a sheep, herding him over to the comfy-looking couch.

"Yes, yes, everything's fine. Don't worry!" Ryou smiled sweetly, sitting down next to his darker half.

"Did something happen?" Bakura asked, raising an eyebrow in question because Ryou seemed more excited than usual today. The thief placed his rucksack down on the floor and was thankful of the soft sofa, wondering how Ryou managed to make such a small apartment so inviting. The place was a little haven of calm and innocence, and it always managed to make him feel out of place. It wasn't the type of place someone like him should be, but he couldn't bring himself to say no to Ryou.

"It's a secret." Ryou smiled again, and Bakura half expected him to giggle.

"Oh?" The thief cocked his head to the side with a smirk, knowing Ryou wanted him to push for answers. "And you think I cannot keep it?"

"That's not what I meant," the British teen laughed softly, standing up again. "Dinner's almost ready, do you want tea or coffee?"

"Coffee," Bakura chose, although it didn't really matter to him. He just liked the distasteful look Ryou always gave because he seemed to run entirely on tea. Doing nothing to dispel the stereotypes there. Following the hikari into the kitchen, Bakura leant against the counter on the opposite side of the room, watching the boy go about making their drinks and preparing the stew he'd been cooking.

"So, are you going to tell me this secret of yours, or am I going to have to nag at you all through dinner?" The former tomb robber threatened with a smile of his own, liking the smell of the stew as it simmered away. He'd never been one to eat much anyway – even less now – but he made sure to finish whatever Ryou gave him on the days he visited.

"Alright, you win." Ryou caved, handing him a hot mug of coffee and moving over to the cooker to scoop them out a bowl of stew each. Bakura took his coffee and Ryou's tea over to the small table in the joined kitchen and dining room, sitting down as the hikari bought the meals over and joined him.

"Well, Malik and I were partnered up for a biology assignment and he asked me out to dinner to talk about it." The hikari grinned, putting far too much salt on his food.

"That seems a little much just for an assignment." Bakura commented, digging into the food Ryou had placed in front of him.

"I know!" Ryou giggled, having had a crush on the Egyptian hikari for years. "Do you think he likes me?" The boy asked, looking hopeful.

"He would be a fool not to." Bakura replied gently, thoroughly enjoying the food Ryou had made, as usual. "When is this date of yours?"

"It isn't really a date..." Ryou trailed off, smiling shyly. "It's this Saturday."

"It sounds like a date to me. Are you nervous?" The yami asked, watching the soft blush on Ryou's pale cheeks. Malik was as shifty as it was humanly possible to be, but Ryou liked him and it was Ryou's choice. Besides, the Egyptian hikari wasn't as bad as his reputation made him sound. He'd actually calmed down quite a lot, and Bakura liked the fact that he chose not to associate with the pharaoh's group where possible. Apparently little Ryou was an exception, although if Malik ever hurt him in any way he was going to find himself on the king of thieves' bad side. That was generally not a good place to be.

"Not really..." Ryou lied, sipping his tea. It was wonderful to listen to all the hikari's mundane, every-other-teenager-in-the-world problems. Bakura had never had the chance to experience them for himself, and watching Ryou go through it almost made up for the fact. He liked to see his light having a normal life – something he was never going to have for himself because of what he was and where he'd come from. He'd thought he'd cursed Ryou to the same fate, but the hikari seemed to be managing well enough. Sometimes he wondered if he should disappear, leave the boy to it. Having an ancient Egyptian thief turn up for dinner twice a week probably wasn't doing him any good, but he got the feeling that Ryou needed him there. The only family he had was his father, who was off on his trips around the world so much that he was rarely ever around. That made him Ryou's only family.

"You'll do fine, you have nothing to worry about." Bakura reassured, finishing his meal and draining the last of his coffee. As he placed his mug down he noticed once again the tremor in his hands, getting worse as the night wore on. "I should go, I still have to buy a few groceries before I head home."

Ryou finished his tea and stood up as Bakura did, stepping over to hug his yami tightly.

"Alright, but get some rest. You look a little under the weather." The boy ordered, noticing how thin his darker half had gotten but saying nothing about it. His ribs were sticking out a little, but Ryou was sure it was just a cold or something making him lose weight. He couldn't think of anything else it might be, and Bakura had eaten everything he'd cooked.

"I will, don't worry." Bakura forced a smile, waiting for his light to let him go and show him to the door. "I'll see you on Sunday, have fun with Malik. If you need anything just call me, alright?"

"Ok, bye yami." Ryou said, giving that little, innocent smile that made him look like an angel and handing the yami his rucksack. There were no angels in Bakura's culture, but as soon as he'd discovered what they were he'd decided that Ryou definitely fit the description.

As Ryou closed the door he watched Bakura walk off into the night, wondering if he should be worried. Probably not, Bakura was the one person he knew that could get through anything by himself. Besides, if his yami needed him he would have said something, right?

XxXxX

Bakura headed to the nearest seven-eleven, ignoring the polite smiles of the staff and grabbing a basket. Now that he was away from Ryou the craving was kicking in and the shaking in his hands was becoming noticeable to the few other customers in the store, who were giving him a wide berth. Not particularly caring, he grabbed a few groceries – instant ramen and oranges, mostly – and paid for them with a handful of the thousand yen notes that were stuffed into his rucksack. The staff gave him more polite smiles on the way out, which he once again ignored. He only ever cared when Ryou smiled. Everyone else could go to hell for all it mattered to him.

It was usually a nice walk back to his own apartment in the dark, through the semi-deserted streets of Domino city. Tonight he just wanted to get home, and the walk that would normally have taken him twenty minutes he managed to cover in half that. Heading up the rusty metal fire escape to the back door of his tiny flat, he dug out his keys and spent a minute or so trying to unlock the door, his hands shaking too much to get the key in the lock. When he finally managed it and let himself into the kitchen he slung the bag of groceries on the counter and tossed the rucksack next to it, along with his keys. He could sort everything out in the morning. For now he locked the back door and stalked through the dark apartment, shedding his coat and throwing it over the back of a chair. Letting himself into his bedroom he closed the door behind him, leaning against it and sighing because he'd finally closed the door on another day full of _hassle._

His room, like the rest of the small apartment, was dark and silent. There were a few trinkets and things laying around to personalize it a little, but in the permanent gloom that hung over the place it was hard to see anything, which was just the way he liked it.

First things first, after a long day he wanted a little music to fall asleep to. The stereo – some cheap piece of crap he'd lifted from somewhere-or-other – sat on the dresser next to a pile of CDs, their cases stacked haphazardly because he could never remember to put them back afterwards, and it was too much effort anyway. Too tired to pick anything specific, Bakura pressed the play button and let the room fill with whatever he'd put in there last. Metallica – Breadfan. That would do, songs about money always vaguely reminded him of Seto Kaiba and that wasn't such a bad thing. There was nothing he particularly hated about Kaiba, which was unusual. He wasn't sure he _liked_ the CEO, but he didn't _dislike_ him. He was tolerated, and occasionally amusing to talk to when they were actually in the same place long enough to have a conversation - which admittedly didn't happen very often.

Well, the music was playing and the craving was really getting to him now, so it was time for bed. Opening the drawer in the dresser beneath where the CD player lived, Bakura stared down at the two syringes laying on top of a folded black bandanna. For the first time since he'd started doing this more than four months ago, he looked down at the needle in his hand and felt like he was doing something wrong. Not wrong as in morally wrong – he usually had no problem with that – but wrong in the way that it might be something that could hurt Ryou. Still, his hands were shaking more than ever and his head was pounding, cold sweat trickling down the back of his neck and making him shiver. If he had to, could he give it up? Put it back in the drawer and just go to bed without it? A month or two ago he would have sneered and said yes, of course he could. He wasn't that weak. Now, though, he had his doubts that he could get through the night without it.

Taking one of the syringes and the bandanna, he closed the drawer on the last needle and headed over to the large bed, kicking off his shoes and sitting in the middle of the soft sheets. He stripped off his shirt, all the while thinking about the fact that he only had one more day left after this and then he would have to see Keith again, something he never enjoyed.

Tying the bandanna tightly around his upper arm, he ran his eyes over the track marks running from his inner elbow down towards his wrist. Bruised veins spiderwebbing out, the red dots of pinpricks decorating them here and there and the odd cut where he'd been too shaky to get the needle in cleanly. He was getting to that stage now, and he used his teeth to pull the safety cap off the needle, letting the dim light from the heavily shaded bedside lamp catch the razor sharp point. What would Ryou do if it killed him? Would Ryou be the one to find him? Right now he didn't care, he needed it. Finding a vein that wasn't too badly bruised, he slid the needle smoothly into his arm, feeling the familiar pinch and burn. Laying down on his back and letting the empty syringe roll out of his hand onto the floor, he reached over wearily and pulled the bandanna off his arm, not really caring where it ended up. Then the wait, only thirty seconds at most in reality but it felt like forever. Staring at the cracks in the ceiling, the same thing he did every night. Then, finally, it kicked in. He arched up from the bed with a long, low moan, throwing his head back. His breathing shallowed and his pupils shrank to pinpoints, a tremor of pleasure making his entire body break out in a sheen of sweat and lights dance in front of his eyes. After a few moments he collapsed back, listening to his erratic heartbeat and feeling like everything was fine, for once. He wasn't worried about Ryou, he didn't feel like he could never be normal, he didn't care about anything. Everything would be alright.

Closing his crimson eyes, Bakura let the golden warmth wrap around him and moaned again quietly, wishing he could feel this way all the time. Just like every other night, he writhed in the throes of drug-induced ecstasy for another hour or so before passing out in his jeans on the bed, still breathing in shallow gasps. One day it was going to be too much for him, but for now he knew he couldn't live without it.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Notes: Thanks for all the reviews!

Use the Man

Chapter 3

Mornings were the worst. Waking up was more like clawing his way back into the land of the living, and lately it'd been more than tempting just to stay in bed and let the world turn without him. It wasn't as though going to the school to take his English course did any good anyway, there was nothing he could think of that he would ever want to do for a career that wasn't technically a felony. The only reason he really went was to keep an eye on Ryou and, truth be told, get out of the house for a few hours. Without it he knew he'd end up a recluse, never leaving his apartment other than to go out and 'earn' the money for his rent, groceries and whatever else needed paying. That was a reminder – rent day was Saturday. He wondered if he had enough to pay it without having to go out again tonight and spend a few hours picking pockets. It felt so_beneath_ him sometimes. He was the King of Thieves for Ra's sake, he could steal anything at all if he set his mind to it. He could have knocked over a bank or a jewellery store, but he didn't want to do anything too big in case Ryou found out or it somehow got him into trouble. They still looked a lot alike, and there was always the chance that he could be caught on a security camera.

Getting out of bed was a chore in itself. Technically it was just getting _off_ the bed, since he'd passed out in his jeans on top of the covers. The stereo was still playing and he lurched over to it, reaching blearily for the power button. Once that was taken care of he staggered to the shower and stripped down, hanging his head and letting the hot spray soak his long hair. Tilting his head up he let the water wash his face clean, waking him up a little. He really, really wanted to go back to bed and pass out again, but if he didn't turn up to his class Ryou would worry. He'd noticed something was wrong last night, but Bakura could cover for it. If he skipped a day now he'd have his light banging on the door, maybe even dragging him to a hospital. He_really_ didn't need that.

Dressing quickly in whatever was on the back of the chair where the clean clothes lived, Bakura pulled on a black t-shirt and a tight pair of army patterned cargo pants, along with his clunky black combat boots. The groceries and his rucksack were still where he'd tossed them the night before, so he quickly put everything in its place before grabbing his keys off the table and heading out. He was going to be late, but that was nothing new. He didn't particularly care anyway.

The walk to school was about ten minutes – he lived a lot closer than Ryou. He was still late, but he refused to walk any faster. Getting into class he ignored the dark look the teacher sent him and sat down, at the very back as per usual. He could hear the pharaoh and his friends whispering about something mundane, but Anzu's new boyfriend really wasn't something he could bring himself to be interested in. Malik and his crew didn't take English, but Seto Kaiba was there, sitting beside the window and pointedly ignoring everyone. Every so often the teacher would turn to him and ask a question, just to make sure he was listening. Seto would reply in perfect English, always getting the answer right. That seemed to annoy the teacher, but the CEO refused to notice.

Staring at Seto's back from across the class, Bakura ignored the lesson taking place around him and replayed the conversation he'd had with the CEO the day before.

_Just call when you need me._

He had to wonder what it would be like, since he had very little else to do at that moment. Ryou would probably laugh at him. The hikari was right down at the front of the class, working hard even if he didn't really need to be. What was Ryou's opinion of Seto Kaiba? Bakura wracked his brain for if his hikari had ever voiced one. The only things he could remember the boy saying about the CEO were 'that man needs a hug' and 'he's a little obsessive, but he isn't that bad.' That seemed to be a positive opinion. Well, not a negative one, at least. He wasn't sure why he was even thinking about it, other than the fact that Seto Kaiba had sounded as though he actually _cared_, and that was something Bakura didn't often find himself dealing with.

On the other side of the class, Seto could feel Bakura's crimson gaze settling on him. He didn't mind, since the thief had been on his mind all night anyway. He'd sorted out one of the many spare rooms in the mansion – the one across the hall from his own. Nice clean sheets and a few other minor changes, just in case he happened to end up with a house guest for a little while. He had a vague plan of what he was going to do if it turned out that Bakura was – as Yami had put it – a junkie. He hated that word. He wondered what the thief was taking and how much. The shadows beneath his eyes were getting darker every day, his skin paler and his hands shakier. He'd never been the most talkative of people to begin with, but these last few months he barely said a word to anyone except Ryou – his precious hikari. Still, Seto needed proof before he could do anything. It could be that the yami was just ill, maybe just tired or stressed. But Seto knew the signs, and this was just _too close_ to be a coincidence. Then there was what Yami had said, and no matter how much he disliked the Game King, he was still inclined to believe that the Pharaoh was right. Evidence was needed, though. He wasn't going to step in without it – Bakura was dangerous when he wanted to be. Before this 'mysterious ailment' had afflicted him he'd been able to hit the bullseye of a dartboard from across the room, with whatever pointed object happened to be to hand. Seto had seen him do it with a bread knife, a pencil, a screwdriver and even a chopstick. Where Yami was an expert when it came to magic, Bakura seemed to take the more down to earth path. Anything sharp or bladed became lethal in his hands. Well, before they started shaking so badly, that was. In the mornings it didn't seem so bad, and even towards the end of the day when he really seemed to suffer he could probably still be deadly if he needed to. Seto was taller and stronger, but Bakura was quick and knew every trick in the book when it came to fighting dirty and escaping. The CEO didn't want to have to go up against him without soild proof that he needed to. Besides, if it came to it and he did have to step in, he wanted to be prepared. He had his plan, things had been sorted out and he was going to deal with this in the simplest was he could think of. Now all he had to do was confirm his suspicions. Class would be ending soon, and that seemed as good a time as any, if he could catch the thief alone.

On the other side of the class again, Yami was half paying attention to the lesson and half turning in his seat every now and then to watch the quiet little drama unfolding before his eyes. He could see Seto staring out of the window, probably thinking about that thief. He was tapping at his desk distractedly with the end of his pencil, something he only ever did when he was mulling something complicated over. Not that Yami really considered Bakura to be complicated, and he was pretty sure the thief didn't consider himself complicated either. Seto just had a way of over-analyzing things.

The Pharaoh turned to look discreetly towards the back of the class where the thief was sitting, resting his elbow on the desk and supporting his chin with the palm of his hand. He looked bored, his eyes flitting around the room from the teacher to Ryou and always back to Seto Kaiba. He managed to look good whatever he was doing, which made Yami smirk. There was someone who, like generations of rock stars before him, managed to make heroin look sexy. Well, the idea of it, anyway. He could imagine the thief taking the stuff – it probably made quite a pretty sight. It would kill him in the end and poor Ryou would have to deal with losing yet another family member, although Yami suspected that Kaiba was going to do something about it. Probably catch the thief alone and give him the 'drugs are bad' talk. Did that _ever_ actually work? He assumed Bakura already understood that drugs were bad. It made him wonder why the thief felt the need to take them – what exactly was it that he couldn't deal with? Yami knew full well how hard it was existing out of one's own time, especially when they'd lived so very long ago. Still, he was the hero, so any help he needed, he got. He was the good guy and he'd saved the world more times than he could count, so he'd probably never want for anything. He made enough money from all those card game tournaments, and he had his friends to rely on if he was ever in trouble. What did Bakura have? Well, he had Ryou, but Yami knew that if the thief ever needed anything Ryou was the last person he'd go to. He would never ask anything of the little hikari. He didn't really have anyone else he associated with, and Yami had no idea about where he lived or how he survived. Maybe it wasn't that bad, and Kaiba's speech – if that was what he had planned – would frighten Bakura enough that he'd go back to being a creepy recluse _without_ the drugs. He must be afraid of Ryou finding out, after all. Now _that_ would be a drama, not that he would ever tell Ryou about his ailing darker half. The poor boy was so fragile he'd probably have a seizure if he ever found out his yami was slowly poisoning himself.

For a few moments Yami considered sticking around after class to see what went on between Kaiba and Bakura, but Yugi, Jounouchi and the others were headed to the arcade and he wanted to keep n eye on his hikari. He could always find out what had gone on later, or the day after, which would be Friday. It would be easy to see if Bakura had really stopped or not – the withdrawals would probably be a little more noticeable than just shaking hands and that hollow look in his eyes.

XxXxX

The bell for the end of class finally sounded and Bakura sighed, having spent the last ten minutes of the lesson staring emptily at the clock above the teachers head. He spoke English perfectly, thanks to Ryou, so everything they were being taught went in one ear and out the other. He was too busy thinking about everything that needed doing once he got out of class anyway. He had to make sure he had enough to pay the rent and the other bills on Saturday, make something to eat – although he wasn't really hungry, but he was going to force it down for Ryou – go out and get more money from the rich and stupid if he didn't have enough, deal with the brats that would probably be waiting for him outside the school because they never learned... He also had to see Keith, even though he hated going anywhere near the man. Plus he had to figure out some way of making himself look less ill to stop Ryou worrying for as long as possible.

Standing up, the thief made to walk out of the class, waiting as usual for the crowd of people in front of him to get all their foolish pushing and shoving out of the way. As the last few left, Bakura watched Seto Kaiba stalk past him. To his surprise the CEO closed the door and turned to him, eyes narrowed.

"Is there a problem?" Bakura asked, forcing a cocky smirk onto his lips. He just wanted to get out of there and get all the daily bullshit he had to deal with over. Most of it was normal everyday tasks that every other person on earth had to do, but for an ancient Egyptian tomb robber who still had no idea what VAT was, it was all too much.

"Yes." Seto said coldly, stalking towards him. The thief considered taking a step back, but in the end held his ground. So Seto Kaiba was tall and imposing – he wasn't about to let that intimidate him.

"And that would be?" Bakura asked, looking serious now. He could see that Seto was angry over something, there was a certain intensity in his eyes that Bakura had never seen directed at him before. To a regular mortal it would probably have been quite frightening.

"I wanted to check something first." Seto said, taking a quick stride forward and grabbing Bakura's left wrist.

"What are you doing? Take your hands off me, I do not need the complication in my life of figuring out where to bury your corpse!" The tomb robber snarled, glaring angrily up at the CEO and trying to yank his arm away from the iron grip.

Saying nothing, Seto bought his other hand up and swept Bakura's sleeve up to his elbow, exposing his pale arm. As the CEO had feared, the milk-white skin was marred with a lightening pattern of track marks, zigzagging in angry bruises down towards where Seto held his thin wrist. At having the evidence of what he'd been trying to keep a secret exposed so easily, Bakura growled savagely and staggered back, finally breaking the grip Seto had on his arm. Pulling his sleeve down quickly and backing well away from the young executive, the thief glared darkly at him without a word and waited for the lecture he knew was about to happen.

"Why?" The CEO asked simply, the harshness in his eyes softening slightly. Was that_pity_? Bakura backed away another step, not sure what to make of that.

"Get out of my way." The thief hissed, wanting to be anywhere else on earth than in that room right then. He didn't want to talk to anyone about this, especially not this man he barely knew. It had felt nice to think that maybe someone cared, but he didn't need to pour his heart out to them. He had always dealt with everything alone and he always would, he didn't want to have to explain himself to some mortal who had no right interfering. It was _his_ problem, it had nothing to do with Seto Kaiba.

"No. Tell me why you think you need this." Seto growled, moving closer to the thief.

"_Get out of my way._" Bakura repeated in a voice that said he was about ten seconds away from getting violent. Seto glared sternly at him, expecting an answer. He was ready to pin Bakura down until he got it if he had to, but before he could make his move the thief darted to the side and around him, dashing for the door. The former tomb robber was out of the classroom and gone before Seto had even turned around, the door slamming closed behind him almost hard enough to shatter the frosted glass pane in the middle of it.

Seto turned around again and stared at the window, not really looking outside. Luckily, he'd planned for this. Bakura didn't want his help, that much was clear. That didn't mean he wasn't going to get it anyway. Stalking back over to his desk and opening the briefcase he'd left there, Seto dug out the sleek, black mobile phone strapped to the inside of the case lid, hitting one of the autodial numbers. His chauffeur answered, confirming that he was waiting outside the school gates. Smirking, Seto flipped the phone closed and took up his briefcase, heading for the door. It was going to be a busy night.

Bakura sprinted down the corridor and out of the school as fast as he could, heading for the school gates. Two of the little gang that insisted on harassing him at the end of every school day were waiting for him, but he really didn't want to deal with them right now. Barely stopping for breath he skidded to a halt next to them and swung his bag around, catching one in the side of the head. He went down like a brick, the second soon joining him. A jab to the ribs with his elbow had the boy doubled over and Bakura was off again, running out of the school gates past the dark shape of Seto Kaiba's limousine, which was waiting obediently at the kerb. Still feeling numb from shock and anger like he hadn't felt in years, Bakura raced away from the school building, heading in the opposite direction from where his flat lay. Instead he headed into the heart of Domino, wanting to see Ryou. Terror gripped him at the thought of Seto mentioning something to the hikari before he got the chance, and he knew he had to talk to his light first. Even the thought of admitting this to Ryou sent cold sweat trickling down his back and he stopped in a shadowed shop doorway, gasping for breath. A wave of nausea griped him and he leant heavily against the wall, fighting not to throw up and stumbling back into the shadows in shock when the dark shadow of a limousine glided slowly past. Terrified that it was Seto heading towards Ryou's flat, Bakura swallowed down the nausea and set off again, head pounding. He knew, in that moment, that he would rather die than have Ryou find out. If he didn't get there first he might as well give up. But if it happened... Seto Kaiba was going to _pay_.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Notes: KeraJeir - Do I need a beta? I'm churning these out pretty quickly, perhaps I made a few mistakes. Oh, and please forgive my English spelling, even though I realise the majority of people reading this are probably American.

XxGirlsXxNotXxGrey - Erm... Either Maadri or Maggie? Enlighten me, if you know me you probably know how thick I am.

Anyway, on with the fic!

Use The Man

Chapter 4

Bakura was about two blocks away from the welcoming safety of his light's humble flat when he raced around a corner and felt a stabbing pain in the back of his neck, something he could have avoided easily if he hadn't been so panicked. His momentum had him stumbling forward, snarling like a wounded animal and turning to glare murderously at whatever had hit him. He wasn't surprised to see Seto Kaiba, who was staring down at him like he was expecting something to happen. The CEO didn't look as worried as he should have, being confronted by a growling, desperate yami no Bakura. Before the thief could decide where to strike first he noticed the glint of something sharp in Seto's hand and backed a few steps away, touching the back of his neck and bringing his fingertips away stained with a small smear of blood. It wasn't enough for that to have been a knife, or anything designed to kill him outright. It had to be a drug, which meant he had to get out of there before it kicked in.

Seto seemed to see that Bakura had realised what was going on and was about to bolt. Taking a step forward he tossed the dart he'd been holding aside and raised his hands, showing a lack of any other weapons.

"This is for your own good." The brunette claimed sincerely, knowing that if Bakura managed to make a break for the darkness of the park behind him it might take all night to find him once he passed out. The risk of him being found by someone else and the police being called worried Seto, since that would involve hospitals and Ryou, the two things he suspected Bakura would rather keep out of the whole affair.

"Whatever delusions convinced you this was a good idea are about to get you killed," Bakura hissed, murder in his eyes. A wave of dizziness swept over him suddenly and he dropped to a defensive crouch on one knee, snarling in frustration. He didn't know what Seto had done to him but it made his muscles feel weak and a heavy sleepiness overcome him, too strong for him to fight. That didn't mean he wasn't going to try. The blade he kept in the back of his boot was in his hand in a flash and he dared Seto to come any closer to him, darkness crackling tangibly in the air around him.

"This doesn't have to be so difficult, Bakura..." Seto tried, knowing that it was useless and there was no way the greatest thief in all of the ancient world was about to give up and let himself be captured without a struggle. Bakura was stubborn on a level to match Seto himself, and that was quite an achievement. It was probably best, the CEO decided, to let the tranquilizers kick in - perhaps distract him until he passed out.

"What exactly is 'this'?" The thief demanded in a low, dangerous voice. It wasn't the cackling, slightly deranged voice he used to scare the pharaoh and his friends when they were dueling. This was the dark, genuinely murderous voice he used when he actually did want to kill someone. The voice that made it clear he was far more than he looked. It was a good reality check, Seto decided. This wasn't just some twenty year old junkie who happened to be good with knives kneeling on the gravel path in front of him, this was an ancient Egyptian murderer – a man who'd terrorized his entire country, escaped death countless times and even when he _had_ died it hadn't stopped him. Even the all-encompassing power of the Pharaoh couldn't stop this man, who never seemed to stay down for long. That thought made Seto narrow his eyes and take a step back, reminding himself just how clever Bakura really was. Apparently just in time, because the thief gathered what strength he had left and decided that if flight was not an option he had to take care of his attacker before the tranquilizers made him helpless.

Lunging forward with the knife, Bakura managed to catch Seto a deep gash across the leg, just above the knee. If the CEO hadn't already been stepping back at that moment it would have been a lot worse, but as it was he just gave a harsh growl of surprised pain, staggering back and looking down at the blood soaking through his torn uniform. Looking back to where Bakura knelt, he watched the thief drop to his hands and knees, panting with the effort of not passing out. Realizing he wasn't going to be able to stop it, he looked up through the curtain of his long, white hair and fixed his dark eyes on Seto.

"You had better pray to whatever god watches over you that I never wake from this." The thief whispered, before collapsing forward. His voice had been deathly serious, and as Seto watched Bakura's body go limp he wondered if this had been such a good idea. Selflessness wasn't his area of expertise, certainly not when it put his own life at risk. He always had liked a challenge, though, and Bakura was definitely that. He just hoped that the single bargaining chip he had – not mentioning any of this to Ryou – would be enough to tame the tomb robber. At least, for the time being. It all depended, he supposed, on how far Bakura would go to keep his addiction a secret from his little light.

XxXxX

Seto Kaiba's limousine driver was well paid, even more so tonight. He helped the CEO lift the unconscious young man into the stretch car, laying him across two of the back seats. Seto had warned him off touching the white haired man for a few minutes, watching warily in case passing out was some kind of act and he could spring into action at any moment. There was blood spreading out into the torn fabric of his employer's clothes, just above his knee. Having worked for the man for years, the driver knew enough not to ask if Seto needed help and simply made himself useful lifting their surprisingly light guest. The drive back to the Kaiba mansion was quiet, although not uncomfortably so. Seto never usually indulged himself in small talk, but this time he seemed to have a lot on his mind and the driver left well alone. It was all to do with the mysterious creature sleeping like the dead on the back seat, judging by the glances Seto occasionally sent his way.

At the mansion the driver lifted Bakura from the back seats and followed Seto in through the large front doors, up the stairs and into a guest bedroom across from Seto's own. The CEO was limping slightly, but nothing was said.

Once the young man was laid on top of the clean, white sheets, the driver bowed politely to his boss and excused himself, heading out. He didn't ask questions, that wasn't his place and was why he'd remained employed with the millionaire for so long. For something as relatively simple as carrying an unconscious young man up a few stairs he'd earned a healthy Christmas bonus. It was worth the mystery to know how pleased his wife would be for the extra money.

"Wait." Seto's deep voice sounded as the driver made to close the bedroom door behind him. The man stopped, bowing again.

"Yes, Mr Kaiba?" He asked, wondering what else he could do.

"You won't be needed for a few days, I'll be working from home. You'll be paid in full for the time off, consider it a holiday." The CEO instructed, before turning back to the figure on the bed and paying his faithful driver no more mind. Bowing once more anyway, the limousine driver left with a slight smile, knowing that for all the gray areas of morality Seto skirted occasionally, he was still a good employer. His wife was definitely going to be happy with him.

XxXxX

Once the door had closed, Seto listened to the sounds of his driver moving down the grand staircase and out of the mansion, then the purr of the limousine's engine starting and the crunch of gravel under tires as it glided out of the grounds. Finally content that there would be nobody else around for at least three days – Mokuba having been shipped off to stay with friends and well out of danger – Seto looked down at the creature on the bed. Bakura was pale and breathing softly, looking anything but threatening in his sleep. It was hard to believe – seeing him this way – that he had the potential to be so vicious. The man laying on the sheets with his dark eyes closed, long eyelashes brushing his pale cheeks and snowy hair softening the sharp angles of his attractive face looked no more threatening than Ryou. Yet he'd once tried to bring a death-god to life, determined to obtain the power to destroy the world.

The wound on his leg stung, the blood drying uncomfortably where it had run down his shin. He would have to take care of that, but Bakura took priority for the time being. If the thief woke up Seto knew he wouldn't get the chance to explain himself before the violence started - he was sorely tempted to forget trying to be understanding about the whole thing and just chain Bakura down.

Watching the tomb robber frown slightly in his sleep, Seto decided he had better stop dithering and do something so that he could go and take care of his leg. He'd placed a pair of handcuffs on the dresser earlier, unsure of whether he would actually use them or not. Having already been wounded once before he'd even gotten Bakura back to the mansion, Seto decided that their use was warranted, no matter how much he disliked it. It probably wouldn't give the thief a very comfortable first impression when he woke up, but there was little else he could do other than keep Bakura sedated. The aim was to get him _off_ the drugs, not force more on him. Using the tranquilizer dart had been a difficult decision, but deemed necessary when Bakura had run out of the classroom. Sedatives weren't, for the time being. They were an option, though, if the thief refused to cooperate.

For the time being, Seto picked up the heavy handcuffs and listened to the sharp click as one end closed around one of the bedposts. Feeling odd even touching the sleeping thief and half expecting his skin to be cold, Seto lifted the dead weight of one of Bakura's arms and clicked the other side of the cuffs into place around his thin wrist, effectively tethering his captive to the bed. Bakura was a world class thief and it was likely that he could pick the lock, but that would take time which Seto could use to explain himself. Well, if all went according to plan, anyway.

It was unlikely that Bakura would be waking up for at least another couple of hours, so after handcuffing one of his wrists to the bedpost Seto left the room, heading for the large bathroom at the end of the corridor. Each of the bedrooms in the large mansion had its own en suite bathroom, but the largest one was where the medical supplies were kept. The other bathrooms had plasters, aspirin and a few other essentials, but the cut was deep and Seto decided that the full kit was in order. On top of having a murderously angry five thousand year old heroin addict in his house, he really did _not_ need the wound to get infected.

Switching on the lights in the bright, clean room, Seto lifted the first aid kit down from the cupboard above the sink and perched on the edge of the jacuzzi-style bathtub. He opened the large plastic box and neatly spread out everything he was going to need on the corner of the bath next to where he sat, wincing slightly as he rolled up his trouser leg to take a look at the wound. The dried blood stuck to his skin unpleasantly and Seto turned on the bath tap, wetting a clean flannel and using it to wipe the area around the wound. It was deep, but not serious and the bleeding had slowed almost to a stop. It was in an inconvenient place – not that there really was a convenient place to get stabbed, he reminded himself – since his leg flexed with every step he took and pulled at the wound. It didn't really need sutures, but Seto cleaned the area around the gash a little better and put them on anyway, just in case. The cream that he slathered over the wound before the sutures went on stung a little, but he gave no outward sign that it had hurt and instead of complaining – there was nobody to hear him anyway – he unwrapped a roll of bandages and proceeded to dress the injury. The cream had put a stop to the last of the bleeding and it didn't take long to wrap his leg, standing up and taking a few steps across the room to see how it felt. There was a little pain so he swallowed a couple of aspirin with a glass of water from the tap, then neatly packed the first aid kit back into the box and put it away. Heading out of the bathroom, he noticed that he was still limping sightly and attempted to walk without doing so. It was a lot more painful, but he could do it if he needed to. That was good to know, now he just had to remember not to rest his laptop on it without thinking.

After visiting his own bedroom briefly to change out of his uniform and into a pair of comfortable jeans and a baggy white t-shirt, Seto returned to check on Bakura. No change, he was still sleeping off the dart. Standing in the doorway for a moment, Seto wondered what to do. He couldn't get on with any of the work waiting for him on his precious laptop, since he had more important things on his mind at present – such as not being murdered once the tomb robber returned to the land of the conscious. Making Bakura something to eat and drink for when he came to sounded like a good idea, so Seto left the sleeping thief once more and headed down the stairs, finding them rather more painful than walking on a level surface. Grinning and bearing it seemed to be the best option, without the grinning. Once he made it down the stairs he thought idly about having a lift installed at some point, wandering the halls towards the kitchen. Once there he stood in the middle of all the shining stainless steel, wondering what on earth ancient Egyptian tomb robbers liked to eat. He usually had staff to do this sort of thing for him, but they'd all been sent away for a week – on full pay, of course – to 'give him space to work.' It had happened before, so there was no reason for any of them except the driver to suspect that he had an ulterior motive.

A sandwich would probably do. He could cook – bringing Mokuba up had ensured that – but at the moment he had better things to be doing. Such as waiting for Bakura to wake up and then attempting to explain what was going on before the thief gutted him. Arrangements had already been made for the thief's college work, so that was no problem. Not that he really ever did any work when he _did_ go in. If he had taken any class other than English – which was taken purely for the fact that Ryou's heritage guaranteed him a pass – Seto wondered what it would have been. What type of subject was an ancient thief likely to be good at? It made him realize just how little he really knew about Bakura. Was he the artistic type? Maybe science or IT, if he liked to learn new things. He had a little trouble with math, since he couldn't quite seem to grasp why the concept of zero was so important. Perhaps drama would have been something he would have excelled at, he was a good actor, after all. He could pull off playing Ryou, even when they had such utterly different personalities. They didn't even look that much alike now, at least not to someone who knew them both. Ryou was all-around_softer_, his looks, his way of speaking and his attitude. There was a darkness that hung over Bakura, something that had always been there. Lately he'd developed the dark smudges beneath his eyes as well, and the slightly gaunt look about him that made it easy to pick him apart from the healthy, perpetually smiling Ryou. It was hard to believe they'd ever been fooled in the first place.

Now, what did evil, ancient Egyptian grave robbers like in their sandwiches? Seto opened the large refrigerator and perused its contents, looking for something Bakura was likely to eat. He tried to think back to what he'd seen Bakura eat at the school, but the thief usually left after his course and hardly ever graced the canteen with his presence. Seto had seen him sitting outside, perched on the wall eating one of those awful, tasteless health bars that Ryou occasionally bought in. He'd also seen him lurking near his light sharing fries from that disgusting Burger World travesty, although the look on Bakura's face had shown exactly what he thought of the grease-drenched filth. Shuddering at the thought of fast food, since Mokuba had forced it on him more than once, Seto reached for the cheese and tomatoes, deciding that Bakura could probably do with something healthy before what he was about to go through.

Making the food only took a couple of minutes, and Seto placed it neatly on a tray with a cup of hot tea and a few snacks, carrying it carefully up the stairs again with a slight frown of annoyance at the pain in his leg. It was going to be one of those things that only bothered him if he focused on it, he could tell. Well, there were plenty of other things that needed his attention, so hopefully it would distract him from the fact that he had a three inch long gash just above his knee.

Entering the room where he'd had his driver lay Bakura, Seto half expected the thief to jump out from behind something and attack him. When nothing untoward happened Seto placed the tray down on the bedside table and pulled a chair up beside where Bakura slept. It wouldn't be long now before he woke, since he was already frowning softly in his sleep, turning his head to the side and giving a growled little moan that somehow managed to sound half sensual and half threatening. Watching the thief begin to wake, Seto sat back in his chair and straightened his injured leg out, hoping that he could get through the night without any further need for first aid. The next half an hour was going to be hard work. Hard work that could kill him if it wanted to.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Notes: as ever, thanks for the reviews. Especially Flamethrowerqueen - your reviews make me sound a lot less thick than I actually am. Anyway, I'm glad it's going down well, and if you lot keep reading it, I'll keep writing it.

Use the Man

Chapter 5

Bakura opened his eyes and regretted it, the remains of whatever Seto Kaiba had darted him with making his vision swim and his thoughts feel like they were being filtered through a layer of cotton wool. He could feel that there was someone else in the room and he turned his head to the side, realizing before he saw the man who it would be.

"Kaiba." The thief growled, slowly remembering the events leading up to him waking up in this unfamiliar room. "I hope for your brother's sake that you have life insurance."

Struggling even to sit up but refusing to show in front of Seto Kaiba how weak he actually felt, Bakura ran back through everything that had happened, trying to figure out what Seto might want. He remembered Seto yanking his sleeve up in the empty classroom and seeing the track marks on his arm, and then the CEO must have followed him after he'd run out of the school towards Ryou's house. He'd raced around a corner far too fast, not paying attention in his panic. That was something he was going be kicking himself for later, once he'd figured out what to do about his current predicament. He should have been more aware, he should never have been caught so easily.

What had happened after he'd been stuck with that dart? He'd felt tired, but he knew he'd fought back. He could remember slashing at Seto, and he looked down at the CEO's legs, noticing that he was sitting with one of them stretched out straight as though bending his knee was painful. So he'd gotten one hit in before he'd passed out, at least. The thought of wounding Seto Kaiba lifted his spirits a little and he sat up straighter in the bed, ignoring the swirl of dizziness the movement caused.

"Before you do anything drastic, hear me out. I bought you here for your own good," Seto claimed, knowing that Bakura probably wouldn't be feeling a hundred percent yet, but also knowing that was unlikely to stop him lashing out.

"You _darted_ me like an animal for my own _good?_" Bakura snarled, eyes flashing with malice. He wanted to kill the man in front of him. His knife was gone, but he could do it with his bare hands if he needed to. Blades were a preference, but he certainly knew his way around unarmed combat. As soon as he knew he could move quickly without being overcome by the dizziness caused by the drug Seto had used, he was going to break Seto Kaiba's neck. Actually, that was too quick a death. The thumbs in the eye sockets method was always drawn out and painful, as was being strangled. Bleeding to death was also an option, if he could get his hands on anything sharp enough to draw blood. A quick scan of the room revealed a tray on the bedside table next to him, laden with sandwiches and tea. There was a blunt little table knife on there, but he could make it work. In fact, the more blunt the knife was, the more painful it was going to be for Seto, who was watching him intently.

Seto could see Bakura's wicked eyes lingering on the knife and told himself firmly that he was in charge of the situation and he could make Bakura understand why he was here. He'd already been on the receiving end of one of Bakura's knife attacks today, and he had no desire to relive the experience.

"How else could I have gotten you to come here without the dart?" Seto asked, trying to get Bakura to see that he hadn't had a choice in the matter.

"You could have _asked_ me," the thief hissed, eyes narrowed in anger.

"Would you have come?" Seto asked, already knowing the answer, hence the dart.

"Not in a thousand years, but it would have been _polite_." The grave robber sneered, flexing his arm back and forth and hating the heaviness of his muscles. It felt as though lead weights had been tied to his arms and his movements were sluggish, much slower and clumsier than they should have been.

"I didn't realize manners mattered so much to you." Seto couldn't suppress a slight smirk, counting himself lucky that the thief seemed to be having trouble moving with any great speed. For the moment, at least, he would be able to see any attack coming and get out of the way.

"It must be Ryou's influence. Now, give me a good reason not to kill you. And if you manage it, don't get your hopes up. I'm not in the best of moods – for obvious reasons – and I may do it anyway." The thief instructed, wanting more than anything he could think of to just murder Seto right then and there. It was always prudent to find out why one had been kidnapped, though. Not that he really considered himself a prisoner, since as soon as he could move properly he could walk right out of there. His wrist was chained to the bedpost, but he was sure that wouldn't stop him for long. He'd always been good with locks, after all.

"I know what you've been doing." Seto stated, opting to get right to the point before the drugs wore off and the violence began. At the moment he had the advantage, being physically stronger and bigger than the thief. Speed was Bakura's main weapon, along with the knowledge he'd collected over his long existence on the many ways to hurt, maim and kill people. The chain holding him to the bed would only keep him there for so long.

"How is it any of your business?" Bakura demanded, instantly defensive – even more so than he already had been.

"What would Ryou say if he found out?" Seto played his ace, hoping it was enough. To his relief, Bakura's eyes widened and he paled slightly, the thought of Ryou being disgusted with him clearly his worst nightmare. In fact, it worked better than Seto had expected. Bakura stared at him with pure hatred in his eyes for a long moment and then shuddered in defeat, bowing his head a little so that his hair fell to shield his eyes.

"Alright. What is it you want of me?" He asked in a slightly huskier tone than usual, knowing that Seto had the upper hand. As long as Ryou continued to believe that he wasn't an evil person, he could deal with anything. Even if he usually believed that Ryou's image of him was far from the truth. It didn't matter, as long as Ryou thought he was worth something. If Ryou stopped smiling at him he didn't know what he would do. The thought of calling the Shadow Realm occurred to him, but if Seto had told anyone else then Ryou would still find out. Even the thought of that happening made him feel physically sick, and his skin paled another shade lighter as Seto watched.

"What I want is for you to get clean. I want you to stay here until you're off whatever it is you've been taking. If you do this, Ryou will never find out." The CEO proposed, watching Bakura's head jerk up in shock, his ruby eyes filled with a mixture of mistrust and anger.

"What are you getting out of this? Why should you give a damn about what happens to me?" Bakura demanded, confused and suspicious.

"For once, I'm not doing this to get anything out of it." Seto smirked, knowing how odd that must sound coming from him. "And don't take it personally, this is more about the drugs than you. If you feel the need to kill yourself, I won't stop you once you're clean." The brunette said, noticing the slight relief in Bakura's eyes when he realized that Seto wasn't helping him because he cared. It would have been a heart-wrenching thing to see, if Seto had been anyone else. As it was, he picked up the tray from beside the bed and passed it to Bakura, casually taking away the knife. It wouldn't stop Bakura, but there was no reason to make it easy for him.

"You can call Ryou tonight and tell him you won't be around for a few days. Eat something first, it'll help the tranquilizers wear off quicker." Seto advised.

Bakura looked down at the food in front of him and frowned, feeling helpless and hating it more than he could've imagined.

"I have not agreed to this yet." He growled, picking up the tea in a slightly shaky hand because it was something else to focus on.

"You don't have a choice." Seto pointed out. Bakura snarled quietly in annoyance, rattling the chain around his left wrist.

"And this?" He demanded, not liking the fact that Seto had darted him and chained him up like he was a dangerous animal. Then again, that was what the pharaoh viewed him as, why should Seto – one of his lackeys – feel any differently?

"I'll take that off after you call Ryou." The CEO promised, "It was purely a safety measure."

"I could still kill you," Bakura threatened, raising the cup shakily to his lips and watching Seto with narrowed eyes.

"What would you tell Ryou? If anything happens to me Yami will know it was you. I'm sure he'll tell Ryou everything."

Bakura looked away, unable to even imagine how much it would hurt Ryou to find out that the only person around that he really considered family other than his absent father had killed someone. The pharaoh would kill him and Ryou would be forced to go through his things – the thought of him opening the drawer in his bedroom and finding that one syringe he had left sent a stab of panic through him. He clenched his teeth and looked back at Seto, placing the tea back down on the tray.

"You have your way. I will do whatever it is you want, but if a word of this reaches Ryou I will put every fiber of my being into making your death as horrific and painful as I can." Bakura warned, his eyes showing that it wasn't an idle threat.

"We have a deal." Seto nodded, standing up a little stiffly. "Eat that, I'll go and get a phone for you to call Ryou. You'd better think up some excuse as to why you won't be around for a few days – I've already contacted the school for you."

Bakura looked down at his plate, ignoring the CEO as he left the room but noting idly that Seto was walking with a slight limp. The thought cheered him up slightly – clearly he'd done some damage.

Shifting the tray a little – rather awkwardly because of the handcuffs keeping his wrist bound to the bedpost – Bakura picked up one of the sandwiches and took a look at what was inside before making his mind up that it was edible. He wasn't really hungry, but he never really was anyway and he felt as though he should probably eat something if he was going to have to go through what Seto was about to put him through. He didn't really know what happened during withdrawals, but the thought was unpleasant anyway. He expected it to be painful whatever happened, but he considered it punishment for starting taking the heroin in the first place. It had gotten him through the day and let him sleep – or pass out, which he considered to be close enough – but it had made him careless. He'd been a lot sharper before, and he wasn't actually any _happier_ with his life now anyway. In fact, the added stress of making sure Ryou didn't find out was just making things worse. Having to see Keith every so often wasn't exactly a bonus, either.

After ten minutes of picking at the food and wondering what to tell Ryou, Seto returned with a cell phone and passed it to him before going to lurk beside the door, making sure that Bakura was doing as he'd been told. Feeling like a child who'd done something wrong, Bakura placed the tray back on the bedside table and dialed Ryou's number, the only phone number that he'd ever bothered to memorize. It seemed to take forever for the hikari to pick up the phone, and Bakura couldn't remember the last time he'd honestly felt nervous. Having Seto watching him like a hawk from over by the door wasn't helping.

"Hello?" Ryou answered the phone in English as usual, and Bakura thought about having the entire conversation in the language just to stop Seto eavesdropping. Seto excelled at English though, so it was unlikely to do more than make Ryou suspicious.

"Ryou." Bakura murmured, glad to hear his light's voice.

"Bakura!" Ryou said with a smile in his voice, always glad to hear from his yami. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Bakura lied, always hating not telling Ryou the truth, but knowing that usually the truth would upset him. "I'm going out of town for a few days, will you be alright without me?" The thief asked, refusing to look up at Seto.

"I'll be fine, but where are you going?" Ryou asked curiously, a little upset that his yami wouldn't be around to hear all about his upcoming date with Malik, but knowing that he would sit and listen patiently to all the lovestruck rambling when he got back.

"Camping." Bakura lied, closing his eyes. "I thought I'd get out of the city for a while. Are you sure you'll be alright? You know how to use the link if it's an emergency, and make sure you stick with the pharaoh when you're leaving school." Bakura instructed, wondering if he sounded like he was mothering his light. Seto would probably be laughing at him.

"Of course, you know I'll be fine. Make sure you eat properly, I worry when I don't get to feed you." Ryou laughed softly.

"I will. Take care, hikari." Bakura said, his voice gentler than usual.

"You too, yami. Have a good time, I'll see you when you get back. Bye!" Ryou said, and Bakura listened numbly to the dial tone that followed Ryou hanging up. That settled it, he was really stuck in Seto Kaiba's house until he could live without the only thing that managed to get him through the day.

"Ryou seems about as difficult to fool as Mokuba." Seto observed, snapping Bakura out of his thoughts.

"I count it as a blessing." Bakura said, looking up wearily at Seto. It was only a couple of hours off the time Bakura usually took his nightly hit and passed out, and already he could feel the familiar tremble in his hands starting. "Unchain me." He demanded, too tired to sound very threatening.

To Bakura's surprise Seto did as he asked, fetching the key from the dresser on the other side of the room and getting close enough to potentially be attacked as he unlocked the handcuffs. Knowing that it would cause more problems than it would solve, Bakura resisted the urge to ram his knee into Seto's stomach while the CEO leaned over to free him. Once his wrist was out of the chains he shook it to get the blood flowing again and rested his head back against the headboard, eyes sliding closed tiredly.

"So," The thief murmured, a bitter little smile on his lips. "What now?"

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Notes: To Nijiyume: Longer chapters? Moi? Not really... These are pretty long for me. Glad you guys are enjoying it, though. I'm not even rechecking this one before I post it, I'm too damned tired.

Use the Man

Chapter 6

The _what now_ turned out to be sleeping, something that Bakura was at the same time grateful and fearful of. The exhaustion of such an emotionally trying day bore down on him, but he knew he wouldn't get more than an hour's sleep. He never did, without passing out in a drug-induced haze of peaceful oblivion. This would be the first time he'd attempted to spend a night chemical-free in months, and it was anything but easy. During the night his body began to realize that what it craved so badly was not going to be forthcoming, and began to punish him. It began with cold sweat and the familiar shaking in his hands, which spread until the very core of his being was trembling. Seto left him alone, for which he was alternately thankful and annoyed. He didn't particularly want to be seen feeling like he did, but he knew this was only the tip of the iceberg. There was going to be much worse to come, and he considered himself worthy of every moment. He deserved it. For now, though, he contented himself with pacing around the large bedroom, trying to think up ways he could make Seto Kaiba's life as much a living hell as his was. To be perfectly honest, the sheer _gall_ of the man impressed him. He still wasn't entirely sure he'd gotten a straight answer as to why drugs were such a sore spot for the CEO, but he was sure he would be informed eventually.

Stalking over to perch for a moment on the large window seat, Bakura drew one leg up to his chest and hunched over, giving the large room another scan. The lack of housing space in Japan didn't seem to have quite gotten through to whoever had built the place, and even this single room could have fit Bakura's entire apartment inside. Well, the better part of it, anyway. It was boring, though. Now that he had time to actually think about what he'd expected the inside of the Kaiba mansion to be like, he was disappointed. Perhaps Seto's room was more ridiculously over-indulgent. The one he was in was just a room – it reminded Bakura of a hotel. Generic double bed, wardrobe, dresser, window seat, balcony, bedside tables, and a rug across the floor that Bakura took an instant dislike to. It was green, that annoyed him for starters. Getting up, he paced over to it and stared down at the thick fabric, glaring because thinking up reasons why he hated it was taking his mind off how much he was shaking. Green. Why green? There was nothing else green in the room. There was nothing green about Seto – he was all blue and white and black and brown, and that weird pinkish color on the inside lining of his white trench coat, that Bakura had never been able to help staring at. When Seto wore that thing he always felt like a bull with a red flag being waved in front of it. He didn't want to charge at the coat and attack it, as such, he was just strangely fascinated that nobody else seemed to notice all the pink.

Mokuba didn't really have any green to him, either. He was pretty much raven black hair and big gray eyes. He didn't look very much like Seto, it made Bakura wonder if they only shared one parent. Either that or they were genetic freaks, not that he particularly cared. He just really hated that rug to the point that it was starting to gnaw away at that place inside that he hoped was his soul. This required action. Small, but immediate action, and a first step in irritating his captor. He'd thought out the fact that this was for his own good and come to the conclusion that – much as he hated it – Seto was doing him a favor. That alone made him feel incredibly vindictive.

Picking up the rug by one corner, because he didn't really want to touch it more than was necessary, Bakura dragged the green annoyance over to the glass doors to the balcony. They were locked, but that hindered him for less than a minute – and only that long because picking a lock with shaking hands was hard work. When the little noise he'd been waiting for signalled that the doors were no longer locked he swung them open dramatically and strode out onto the balcony, enjoying the chill night air that hit him. It cooled the stifling warmth that had wrapped itself around his body without him noticing, and after casually tossing the rug over the edge of the balcony he decided to leave the doors open.

Spending a few more minutes looking blankly out over the dark landscape of the edge of Domino City, Bakura reminded himself that he should at least attempt to get some sleep. It wasn't going to work, but at least he'd look like he was making an effort. He turned away from the comforting view of blackness and vaguely sinister looking trees, and headed back inside. The bed looked welcoming and he was tired, so he fell onto it on his back and forced his eyes closed. A few minutes later they opened again and he sighed, staring up at the ceiling. Perfectly plastered, there weren't even any cracks in the paintwork for him to memorise. It was going to be a long night.

XxXxX

Seto bought in a tray of breakfast at around ten in the morning, and Bakura had gotten a grand total of half an hour's sleep. The one time he'd managed to drift off, he'd woken again thirty minutes later feeling nauseous and spent the rest of the morning doing his best to lie very still. By the time Seto turned up he was marvelling that stopping something bad could make him feel so awful. It was like the worst hangover he'd ever had, only far worse and accompanied by a horrid, shaky feverish feeling. Seto closed the bedroom door behind him and padded over to the chair beside the bed, placing the tray in the same place he'd put the last one, the day before. This one had cereal and orange juice, but even the thought of food made Bakura want to throw up. He clamped his eyes shut and tried to radiate hatred instead, giving himself something else to focus on.

"How are you feeling?" Seto asked, and Bakura considered that to be a very stupid question. He was well aware that he probably looked like death warmed up.

"Like I am being punished for a life of sin." Bakura muttered. "Several lives." He added, uncaring of how self pitying he sounded.

"It'll get worse before it gets better. You should eat something." The brunette advised, watching Bakura open his weary eyes and sit up with considerable effort, all the while mumbling obscenities in a variety of languages. The CEO took that to mean that his mood had improved, since he was no longer using the tone of voice from the night before. The ice cold, murderous eyes had been replaced by irritated garnets, and Seto felt he'd learned something about his unwilling house guest. When Bakura bitched and moaned and threatened to kill everything, that was normal. It was when he got dark and silent that it was worth being genuinely worried.

"Your bedside manner is not what I'd hoped." The thief griped, risking a look at the food Seto had bought before quickly looking away again, the nausea making itself known once again. "I am not eating it. I cannot even look at it." He claimed. "I threw your rug out of the window."

Seto picked up the orange juice and handed it to Bakura, who took it in a hand that was now trembling so badly he had to use two hands just to stop himself spilling it. The thief stared down at the juice and figured that if he could look at it without feeling ill he could drink it and deal with the consequences later. It wasn't solid food, and solid food was the problem. It still made him feel slightly unsettled, but he risked taking a sip anyway while Seto glanced at the bare patch on the blue carpet where the rug had once lived.

"What was it about the rug you disliked?" Seto asked, wondering if this was a withdrawals thing or a regular Bakura thing. The symptoms weren't really bad enough yet for it to be a withdrawals thing.

"It was green." Bakura replied, not really thinking about it much and steadfastly refusing to look at his captor. Instead he kept his eyes trained on the glass of orange juice in his hands, wondering why it had to look so bright.

"You don't like green?" Seto questioned, wondering at the bizarre conversation he was having so early in the morning.

"My liking or disliking of green had nothing to do with it. It didn't go with you, your house or your brother." Bakura explained, not particularly caring if Seto understood the way his mind worked or not. "I was doing you a favour."

"By throwing the rug out of the window?" Seto raised an eyebrow, leaning back in the chair he was perched in. He didn't usually talk casually to people, but he felt like he owed Bakura at least a conversation. It wasn't actually that bad, now that he was trying it.

"Yes. Now tell me what is going to happen to me." The thief instructed, wanting to know exactly what it was he was going to be up against. Today was bad, but he wasn't fool enough to think this was the worst it would get.

"It isn't the same for everyone." Seto warned, watching Bakura sip at his orange juice and stare out of the open balcony doors across from the bed.

"Then give me a vague idea of what I am to expect." The grave robber said, settling for anything that would give him some clue as to what he was in for.

"The shaking will increase. The other symptoms vary with each person, but it's going to get worse over the next few days. It's going to be hard." Seto said honestly, meeting Bakura's gaze as it finally turned to him.

"Nothing short of what I deserve, I expect. How is it that you know so much about this?" The thief asked, not looking away. He wanted to know what it was that caused Seto to feel so strongly about drugs. The revelation that it wasn't any sort of affection for him that was making Seto help him was something he'd been trying not to dwell on too much. It relieved him to know that Seto didn't care, but at the same time something in the very back of his mind said that wouldn't it be nice to have someone give a damn? Just this once?

Seto was tempted to dismiss the conversation with a sharp '_that's none of your business', _but he knew he owed Bakura an explanation. The tomb robber seemed as though he was going to genuinely make an effort to get himself clean, and his attitude was one Seto was glad of. He actually _wanted_ to stop.

"Do you really want to know?" Seto asked, giving Bakura fair warning that it was something personal. He was willing to share, but it wasn't something he ever bought up or had ever told anyone before.

Bakura raised the glass he was still holding to his lips, interested in the sordid past of the Kaiba family. It seemed Seto had been keeping a secret.

"Do tell." The grave robber encouraged, anything to take his mind off the strange feeling of his _blood_ itching. It wasn't severe at the moment, he just hoped it would make way for some less disconcerting symptoms.

"Eat something and you'll have the full story." Seto bribed, passing Bakura the bowl of cereal. The thief gave it a distasteful look, but sitting up in bed had eased the nausea somewhat and he was curious enough to agree to the terms.

"All right, but this had better be an interesting insight into your past." Bakura muttered, placing his juice back on the tray and trying a mouthful of the cereal. It was mushy from laying too long in the milk, but at least he seemed to be able to keep it down. Pleased with himself, he looked to Seto for his reward.

"You know that Mokuba and I were bought up in an orphanage until Gozaburo Kaiba adopted us?" Seto asked, not particularly relishing reliving his childhood. At least Bakura was actually listening intently to what he was saying. False sympathy annoyed him, and he expected Bakura hadn't had a model childhood either so they were on somewhat common ground.

"Yes." Bakura affirmed, eating a little more of the cereal and deciding it wasn't that bad.

"We ended up there because our parents were killed in a car crash. That's common knowledge. What Mokuba doesn't remember is that my mother was driving that evening, and she drove the car off a bridge because she was too high to know what she was doing. I expect my father tried to stop her, clearly it didn't work." Seto told the white haired man in the bed, staring fixedly at a spot on the sheets. Bakura leant back against the headboard in the same position as the night before, digesting the information he'd just been given and resting the cereal bowl in his lap.

"Did she try to stop?" He asked finally, beginning to see where Seto had gotten his knowledge from.

"Twice. My father could never say no to her, though. When it got too bad and she begged him, he gave in." Seto admitted. He had been old enough to remember his mother crying and shaking and screaming, while his father sent him upstairs to look after baby Mokuba and tried to reason with his wife. He'd never really had much luck with parents, he mused. He was just glad that Mokuba didn't remember them.

Bakura was silent for a long moment, closing his eyes and thinking. When he finally looked back at Seto he decided that Mokuba was better off with his brother than he ever had been with any of the others, from what he'd been told. Seto Kaiba was still a complete bastard when he wanted to be, but at least he was interesting.

"I can be very persuasive when I want to be." Bakura claimed, lifting the cereal bowl unsteadily and placing it back on the tray.

"I won't give in, they don't call me ruthless for nothing." Seto assured the thief, who accepted the promise with a crooked little smirk.

"Good." He sat forward a little, looking thoughtful. "I think I liked my mother."

"You think?" Seto frowned, slightly confused. Bakura closed his eyes again, tilting his head back.

"I do not remember much. Nothing of my father, or any siblings I may have had. Just a woman who I assume was my mother. I get a good feeling from her, I wonder what she looked like?" He murmured, more to himself than Seto. He'd often wondered about his family, but the only conclusive thing he could remember was that there had been a woman who had been good to him. She might not even have been his mother, she could have been an older sister or not even a relative at all. It was nice to know that someone had once looked out for him, though.

Seto watched Bakura trying to remember anything he could about his family, thinking to himself that it was odd to think of Bakura ever having a mother. Or ever being a child, for that matter. The brunette couldn't help but wonder if Bakura had been as alternately surly and cocky when he was younger, or whether he'd been an average child and just become a victim of his circumstances. Would he have grown up to be a thief if his family hadn't been slaughtered?

The weight of crimson eyes on him snapped Seto out of his musings and he looked up again to see Bakura staring at him, having moved to the edge of the bed. The thief's bare feet touched the floor and he attempted to stand up shakily, swaying on his feet.

"What are you doing?" The CEO demanded, standing as well and looming over the shorter man, who glared slightly up at him.

"Much as I appreciate that eating something today was a good idea in theory, kindly point me in the direction of the nearest bathroom." Bakura swayed again, refusing to let Seto help him over to the door on the other side of the room which led into the small, en suite bathroom. Staggering inside, Bakura caught himself on the door frame and turned to Seto, who was giving what passed for a concerned frown in his direction. He wanted to say something, but before he could get the words out he felt bile rising in his throat and dropped to his knees in front of the toilet, retching and making hand signals behind his back for Seto to go away. This was something he definitely did not need an audience for.

Giving the shuddering thief a last glance, Seto sighed and picked up the tray from the bedside table, carrying it out into the hallways before coming back in to take his place once more in the chair beside the bed. It worried him that Bakura couldn't keep anything down, he made a mental note to look for something that the thief might be able to eat without being sick. He was going to need his strength over the next couple of days, after all. This was only the beginning.

Over in the bathroom, Bakura retched until he had nothing left, his throat burning. When the shuddering finally stopped he clung to the sink and clawed his way up weakly, washing his mouth out and staring at the haggard reflection of himself in the mirror in front of him.

He was starting to realise just how much he was going to hate the next few days.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Notes: Not sure if I've mentioned this, but Use the Man is a song by Megadeth, about heroin. Listening to it probably makes the title a little clearer. Also... there's no way I'm going to make the deadline of the end of the month on finishing this fic, but I'll keep at it anyway. Hope you're all enjoying it so far. Un-beta'd again, because I'm sleepy and stuff.

Use the Man

Chapter 7

Sunday was the worst. About half way through the day Bakura realised that he'd existed for over five thousand years and in all that time he'd never, ever felt so ill. He couldn't move to get out of the bed, only lay there and suffer through waiting for it to be over. He didn't even know how long it was supposed to last – for all he knew he could feel like this for weeks.

It felt like dying, slowly. His entire body was drenched in sweat and shivering, his eyes unfocused when he could bear to open them. He felt nauseous but had spent the whole morning retching until there was nothing left and his throat was raw. He wished he could drink something to soothe the burning, but he couldn't even keep a glass of water down for more than a couple of minutes. A feverish heat had settled over him and it was too hot, even with the balcony doors wide open and a cool, damp wash cloth draped across his forehead.

Seto had sat with him for most of the day, refusing to leave him alone through what the CEO had assured him would be the most difficult time. The only consolation was that after this, it would get better. Slowly, perhaps, but at least he wouldn't have to go through hell like this again. Seto insisted on talking to him, and even half delirious Bakura could see what a strange thing that was. Seto had never – as far as Bakura knew – been one to indulge in conversations much. He was the same himself, but he had to admit that it was a welcome distraction. Something to focus on – Seto Kaiba's deep, smooth voice talking about that accursed card game, Mokuba, work at his company and whatever else seemed to spring to mind. Bakura wasn't really taking in what was being said, just listening to the intonation of the words and the odd sentence here and there. Occasionally he joined in the conversation if he was feeling lucid enough, but his throat hurt so much that he usually just let Seto speak. He wondered hazily if perhaps it was good for Seto to be speaking whatever was on his mind, since he probably didn't do it often.

"Do you think you could eat some of these?" Seto asked, Bakura only aware that he was being asked a question by the tone of Seto's voice. He turned his head to the side and opened his eyes, struggling to see what he was being offered and having a hard time believing that he wasn't really going to die from this. He might have been hungry, but even thinking about food made his stomach lurch. It was an odd sensation, being hungry and not wanting to eat at the same time. The shaking that seemed to be deep in his bones was worse due to the fact that he was so weak from not managing to keep anything down. However, Seto was offering a small plate of what seemed to be crackers, and strangely the sight of them didn't make him want to throw up.

"What are they?" The thief asked in a voice that had gone from it's usual husky tones to a rasp of pain.

"Just saltine crackers, they don't offer much in the way of nutrition, but they're easy to keep down. I hear pregnant women eat them to help soothe morning sickness." Seto explained, placing the crackers and a glass of cold, clear water on the bedside table.

"How do you even know that?" Bakura asked, managing the ghost of a smirk. "I will try some, but I need to sit up." He rasped, trying to push himself up with a shaking arm that wouldn't quite support him. Seto helped, his eyes drawn for a long moment to where the thief's white hair lay damp against his skin with sweat. After a little rearranging of pillows Bakura could lean back against them in a sitting position, taking a few moments for his head to stop spinning from the movement. He felt truly pathetic that even shifting such a small distance made him feel so dizzy, but he assured himself once again that this was exactly what he deserved for beginning on the road to something that could have caused Ryou so much pain. Sometimes he wondered if Ryou was really as fragile as he treated the hikari, but even if he wasn't... Ryou had been through enough because of him.

"Here," Seto helped Bakura rest the plate of crackers on his lap and the thief took a deep breath, still getting used to sitting up. Everything was still lurching slightly every time he turned his head, but he managed to take one of the crackers and raise it to his pale lips to try a little. It was dry and tasteless and instantly made him thirsty, but it didn't make the bile rise in his throat the way any other food did. Seto offered him the water and he took a sip shakily, managing to keep that down as well. He couldn't handle much, though, and after a couple of minutes Seto took the plate and glass so that he could collapse back against the wall of pillows behind him, groaning. The room was spinning again and he closed his eyes, breath picking up a little. He needed something else to focus on other than the dizzy, feverish feeling and the tingling, itching sensation in his blood. Seto was watching him worriedly, which made Bakura wonder again if this was all really about the drugs. Perhaps it had started that way, but Seto was treating him with a lot more care than he had to. Still, that could just have been to ensure that he made it through the withdrawals and didn't instantly head for the nearest needle, which he swore to himself he wouldn't do. It made him wonder how hard it would be, going back to his dank little apartment and opening that drawer. He would have to throw the last syringe away, there was one left. Would he be strong enough not to use it? Would he make some excuse to himself that it was the last one, and he might as well...? Right now he knew that if it was in front of him, he wouldn't be able to stop himself. If only to make the sickness stop, but once he made it out the other side he knew he had to be stronger than that. He wouldn't have Seto Kaiba watching him like a hawk – it would be up to him alone to get rid of that last needle. He just hoped he could do it, because he doubted that Seto would intervene twice. It might even kill him if he took it again.

"How are you feeling now?" Seto asked, as he did every hour or so. Bakura snapped out of his depressing thoughts and squeezed his eyes closed a little tighter, a migraine sending shooting pain through his skull.

"Like I have the plague. Are you quite sure this will not kill me?" He asked weakly, half hoping that it would. He had to see Ryou again, though. He had to look after him, find out how that date with Malik had gone yesterday, make sure that those idiots who hung around near the school gates weren't harassing him any more. Not that Ryou would have to worry about them for a few days anyway, since Bakura was fairly certain he'd hospitalized all three of them. He really didn't understand why they didn't just save themselves the pain and give up. Perhaps it was a matter of pride, not that they could ever beat him. Well, they probably could if they came across him at that particular moment, but Bakura was fairly sure Seto would never allow them on the grounds.

"It won't kill you. You'll start to feel better by tomorrow, I'm pretty sure this is the worst of it." The CEO assured, standing up and disappearing into the en suite bathroom for a moment before coming back with a cool cloth. He touched Bakura's forehead with the back of one hand, brushing damp, white hair aside to feel the burning skin. The thief was definitely still feverish, and Seto watched him sigh in relief at the cool wash cloth that replaced the brunette's hand after a few moments.

"I hope you are right, I have not felt this ill since I watched my family die." Bakura murmured quietly, allowing Seto to rearrange the pillow again so that he was reclining more than sitting in the bed. He was wearing nothing beneath the sheets – never having been particularly modest at the best of times – and it still felt far too hot.

"Were they really thieves?" Seto asked, knowing that Bakura needed something to take his mind off how sick he felt. The grave robber snorted derisively, raising a shaky hand to pull the cloth down from his forehead to cover his eyes as well, blocking out the daylight.

"You put far too much faith in the pharaoh's version of events." Bakura said, his voice a husky whisper because it was easier on his throat than trying to put any force behind his words.

"Then tell me the truth." Seto suggested, interested despite himself. Bakura stilled and tipped his head back a little, taking a long, deep breath against the dizziness and nausea.

"I do not remember them. I know they were not thieves. I know my home always smelled of food – there was always something baking. Perhaps that was what they did. All I know for certain is that I became a thief because of their deaths." The thief explained, shivering. The burning heat of fever was slowly melting away, only to be replaced with chills that did nothing to stop the cold sweat he felt drenched in. Seto seemed to notice the bouts of shivering that began to plague him and rose to shut the balcony doors, returning a moment later and draping another blanket over the thief, who could barely move. His entire body felt heavy as lead and he kept his eyes closed, Seto watching the soft frown of pain on his face and listening to the low moan that escaped his pale lips, accompanied by a slight arching of the thief's back. That small movement had Seto looking away, picking up the glass from the bedside table to busy himself with anything else other than how involuntarily attractive Bakura was being. It was prudent, he thought, to remind himself just who this person was. Yet again. An evil, half crazed murderer. One of Yami's greatest enemies, not that he held any particular feelings of warmth towards Yami himself.

"You... You look different without the coat..." Bakura's husky voice bought him back to the present and he put the glass down again, deciding to deal with it later. Clearly the thief needed something to occupy his attention, his eyes opening a little for a moment and then closing again weakly. There was no energy left in him to move, but his body wasn't quite ready to show mercy and let him pass out yet.

"Did you think I wore all that around the house?" Seto asked, sitting down in his chair and leaning back, trying to get comfortable and at the same time have a good view of Bakura. To make sure he was all right, Seto told himself firmly. Nothing more. He was only looking at the thief because he had to.

"I never really thought about it before, I suppose." Bakura admitted in a breathy voice, having been surprised that Seto even owned a pair of jeans. "What is that thing you wear around your neck when you are trying to intimidate people?" The grave robber asked weakly, absently wondering how long it'd been since he last had an actual conversation with anyone other than Ryou. Quite a while, by his reckoning.

"A tie?" Seto guessed, not quite sure what Bakura was getting at but amused that he was intimidated by it. Or at least that the thief thought that was why they were worn.

"Do you not realise how easy it would make strangling you?" Bakura murmured, an edge to his voice telling Seto that he wasn't quite aware of what he was saying. He still had his eyes closed and was skirting the edge of unconsciousness, slightly delirious from the fever.

"Perhaps I'll remember that and switch to a clip-on." The CEO said, more to himself than Bakura because he doubted the thief was taking in what he was saying anyway.

"I hate fashion." The tomb robber murmured dizzily, trying to force his eyes open for a moment before giving up. "If it's not Elizabethan ruffs it's random, fancily knotted strips of muted fabric. Practicality is lost on you people." He muttered, trying to fight his way through the haze that seemed to be filling his mind. "I hate... I hate being this helpless..."

Seto listened to Bakura's words, smirking slightly at the fashion comments. The last sentence was breathed in a pained whisper, and Seto knew he would have felt the same way if their positions were reversed. He leant forward and touched a hand to Bakura's forehead again, turning the damp cloth over. He was still too hot, even with the chills running through his thin frame, and every time Seto touched his skin he felt sparks and wanted to let his hand linger. That was normal, he told himself. It was just the heat from the fever. There was no attraction there. Was there?

"Nobody else will see you this way." Seto assured, watching Bakura struggle a little harder to force his eyes to open. He finally managed it and his crimson gaze swept over to Seto, unfocussed and exhausted.

"...Thank you..." The thief whispered, words he hadn't said to anyone but Ryou in longer than he could remember. Once the words were out his eyes fluttered closed and he collapsed back again, giving a soft, breathless moan as unconsciousness finally swept over him. It was a welcome respite.

Seto watched Bakura's shivering body fall limp, the soft, weak words still echoing in his mind. He got the impression that Bakura didn't thank people often – mostly because acts of kindness were generally not extended to him. Seto wasn't sure he considered what he was doing an act of kindness – still firmly telling himself that it was all due to his hatred of drugs – but he appreciated the words anyway. Appreciated how hard they must have been to say. It showed that Bakura was no longer angry at him for bringing him to the mansion and forcing him to suffer through the withdrawals – that he actually wanted to get himself clean as well. All in all, a good sign.

The small, soft little moan Bakura had given as he'd passed out sent a shiver of lust through Seto, who stared at the unconscious thief for a few minutes. He had long eyelashes, for a male. They dusted his pale skin, which was usually an icy white that never failed to reinforce the fact that he wasn't entirely a normal human being. At the moment his cheeks were flushed with fever, his breath coming out in heated little gasps that were doing nothing for Seto's self control. Alright, he finally admitted to himself as he stood and stared down at the sleeping creature on the bed. There was something there. One would have to be blind not to consider Bakura attractive – in a sharp, hollow and malevolent way – so it was perfectly natural. He would never act on it, of course, and thinking about it was pointless. A waste of his time, since nothing would come of it. Still, telling himself that he wouldn't think about what Bakura's husky voice would sound like deepened with lust and not thinking about it were two different things. It was a lot harder to put the thief out of his mind than he'd imagined.

Shaking his head and sighing in annoyance at himself, Seto decided to leave Bakura to sleep for a while and get on with some work. His office was only a few doors down the hall, and he would hear Bakura if he needed anything. That thought led to a replay of the way the thief had moaned and arched his back up from the bed earlier, being so alluring without even realising it. This train of thought needed to be derailed before it went anywhere, Seto knew. Growling in frustration, he headed for the door.

It was going to be really, really hard to concentrate on coding tonight.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Notes: I'm feeling perverted and stressed. I have no excuse. Cliché romance (if it can be called that), here we come. Someone asked how many more parts this will have... Well, it was supposed to have seventeen chapters total, hence the total missing of the deadline. Yes, more stuff will actually happen, eventually.

Also, apologies to anyone waiting for updates, I recently started a second job that involves me getting up at 5.30am six days a week, walking two miles, working two and a half hours and then walking home again before opening the shop. I'll get used to it eventually, but at the moment I feel like I'm about three hundred years old and British winter isn't helping. Hate cold weather. Ok, those are my excuses, I'll shut up and go write something now.

Not checked, again. Too tired...

Use the Man

Part 8

Bakura actually managed to sleep through the night, too exhausted to be able to wake. When Seto got up to finish the coding he'd buried himself in the previous night, the thief was still deeply asleep, curled up on his side with one hand splayed against the pillow. The flush that had marred his pale skin the day before looked to have lessened slightly, and after sleeping so long Seto hoped the thief might be feeling better. Not needed for the moment, the CEO headed back to his office to continue writing code, the image of Bakura's long, elegant fingers firmly planted in his mind. Thankfully, scanning through twenty four pages of relatively useless code to find the single syntax error could dampen anyone's lust. Temporarily, anyway.

After a few hours of work that he really could have had some underling take care of, Seto was almost thankful for the distraction as soft sounds reached him from Bakura's room. Saving his almost non-existent progress and closing the precious laptop, the brunette stood up, stretched – with a painful hiss at pulling the wound on his leg – and headed out of the office. Entering Bakura's room, he paused in the doorway and stared at the scene before him. He should have felt guilty, he was sure.

Bakura was writhing on the bed in a distinctly boneless way, the sheets having fallen down to reveal a smooth expanse of pale, well-toned chest and slim stomach. Those long, skilled fingers were clutching at the sheets to the thief's sides like a lifeline and as Seto watched, Bakura growled and turned his head to one side, leaving his elegant white throat on display. The movement left Seto longing to go over to the bed and just run his fingers across Bakura's exposed collarbone, up his neck to the attractively sharp angle of his jaw, wanting to know how the sleeping thief would respond to the touch. Unable to resist the temptation, Seto settled for the slightly more innocent option of laying his hand across Bakura's forehead, checking to see how the fever was progressing. It had gone down, although the skin beneath his palm still felt hotter than it should have.

The touch against his forehead caused Bakura to still with a last, low growl and after a drawn-out moment of waking, the thief opened his crimson eyes slowly. He seemed to lean into the touch slightly, looking a little glazed before he realised where he was.

"Bad dream?" Seto asked, drawing his hand back reluctantly. Bakura let his eyes drift closed again, feeling less ill than he had the previous day but still not anywhere near a hundred percent yet. His throat didn't feel as sore, at least. The nausea had gone as well, at least for the moment. His blood still tingled with the strange itching feeling, but he could ignore that if he put his mind to it. Waking up to Seto was certainly a welcome distraction. He felt a little cold, and it took a moment before he realised the cause. The sheets covering him had fallen down in the night, leaving him laying before Seto with his chest bare, feeling far more exposed than he should have. He never usually _cared_. Reaching down as casually as he could manage, the thief pulled the covers back up and set his mind to remembering his dream.

"I... do not remember." He lied after a moment, not particularly relishing the though of admitting to Seto what he'd really been dreaming about. He hadn't had a sex dream in years – especially not one so vivid. His skin still tingled with the ghosts of fingers touching him, and suddenly he couldn't meet Seto's eyes. Dropping his gaze to the sheets, he coughed self-consciously and tried to sit up, finding it easier than yesterday.

"Alright," Seto smirked slightly, not pushing it. "Are you hungry? Your fever is going down."

Bakura raised a hand to his own forehead and couldn't tell anything was different, but he felt better and he supposed that was the best indication. What he really wanted was a hot bath, but he knew that after eating only crackers for over forty eight hours, he needed to eat something. The fact that the mere thought of food didn't bring on a wave of nausea was a definite plus, too.

"I... Yes, I think I could eat something." Bakura said, stretching and listening to the click and pop of the muscles in his back. He noticed with slight amusement that Seto's eyes followed the movement closely, although what to make of that escaped him for the time being. His head still felt like he was thinking through a layer of cotton wool, which was anything but conductive to working out what not being able to meet Seto's eyes after a sex dream meant. Lust. It was definitely just lust.

"I'll get you some breakfast," Seto announced, since it was still before noon. As he left Bakura watched him move, once again noticing the slight limp from the wound he'd inflicted. He refused to feel guilty, since he'd only done what came naturally to him in circumstances where he felt threatened. It was his natural instinct to lash out at someone when they were trying to hurt him, and that was what he thought Seto had been trying to do. He would _not_ feel guilty over it. He wanted to see the wound, though, and he wasn't sure why. He could probably tell better than Seto if it was healing right, having had more than his fair share of injuries over his long existence. He shouldn't even care, he told himself firmly.

Not knowing what Seto was making or how long it would take, Bakura stared over at the doorway to the bathroom and wondered if he could make it over there on his own. If he couldn't, it was going to be an interesting situation explaining what he'd been doing to Seto, when he returned. Still, he didn't want to have to be helped just to cross a room, and he wanted to see if there was a bath in there that he could use later. The cold sweat that had drenched him the day before had dried against his skin and he hated the feeling – his hair felt grimy and it disgusted him. He wanted to be clean, and he wanted to know if he looked as run down and ill as he felt.

The first obstacle seemed to be what to wear. He didn't particularly want Seto returning to find him naked, although the thought did make him smirk slightly.

His clothes had been washed at some point and were draped over the back of a chair next to the desk, which held everything he'd had with him when Seto had darted him. It was mostly just what he'd had in his pockets. His deck – the game itself didn't bother him, having the fate of the world rest upon the outcome of it _did_ – the knife he'd lashed out at Seto with, his keys and a few other odds and ends. Changing back into his clothes would probably take all the energy he had left, so instead he slipped out of the bed and, after a moment of dizziness simply due to standing upright, stumbled over to the chair. It was easier just to wear the shirt on its own, it was long enough that it covered him anyway. Getting it on proved a challenge because every muscle in his body _ached_, but he reasoned that a bath would help soothe them anyway. The walk across the plush, white carpet to the bathroom wasn't as hard as he'd thought it would be, although once he reached his destination and opened the door he had to cling to the door frame for a brief moment to keep himself standing. He wanted to congratulate himself for making it so far on his own, before he realised how pathetic that would be. Instead he cleaned himself up a little and took a look at himself in the mirror, surprised to see that he didn't look anywhere near as bad as he felt. His eyes looked weary and he had a generally ragged look about him, but other than that he just looked slightly flushed. He'd half expected to find himself bleeding from the eyes with the way he felt.

A noise back in the bedroom caught Bakura's attention and he stumbled back to the doorway, exhaustion dragging at his limbs because he'd been moving around for a good five minutes. Seto had returned and placed a tray of something down on the bedside table, looking around in confusion for his guest.

"Over here." Bakura murmured, watching Seto turn to him and suddenly wishing he'd opted to wear more than just a long shirt. Now he just had to make it back to the bed without making a complete fool of himself, and from the way his body protested it wasn't looking hopeful.

XxXxX

Seto turned to find Bakura leaning in the doorway to the bathroom, wearing nothing but a long shirt and looking tired. Unable to help himself, Seto's eyes drifted to the thief's long legs briefly, appreciating the sight far more than he knew he should have. The thief leant heavily against the door frame for a moment longer before he visibly gathered his strength to begin the walk back across the bedroom. The movement snapped Seto out of his daze and he strode forward to help, draping an arm around Bakura and silently enjoying the excuse to touch him. The exhausted grave robber sagged gratefully against him, closing his eyes for a moment. Seto worried that the thief might pass out, but Bakura pulled himself together and made it back to the bed, the warm covers draped over him once again.

"Are you alright?" Seto asked, concerned despite himself.

Bakura sat against the pillows looking a little more flushed than before, keeping his eyes closed for a moment as he recovered from the dizzy spell that had almost made him collapse. After a while his eyes slid open and he nodded, smirking slightly.

"Yes. Perhaps I should not push myself quite yet." The thief replied in his husky voice, eyes drifting over to the tray Seto had placed on the bedside table. It held tea, toast, miso and a bowl of chopped fruit. Simple things, which Bakura was grateful for.

"What would you like?" Seto asked, handing Bakura the mug of miso soup when the yami picked it over the other breakfast possibilities. Sitting back against the pillows, Bakura sipped at the hot soup and smiled slightly, watching Seto pick at some of the toast.

"You are being far more hospitable than I had expected," Bakura admitted, enjoying being able to eat hot food instead of barely substantial crackers.

"Getting you clean is worth it." Seto replied, wondering if Bakura still believed it was all because of his hatred of drugs. "Why did you feel like you needed them?" He asked, trying to take his mind off his growing attraction for the white haired yami. It only occurred to him after he'd said it what a personal question that was, but Bakura didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed oddly relieved to be able to speak to someone about it, and Seto realised that Bakura was a lot like himself in that respect. They both had only one important person in their lives, Mokuba and Ryou, and as close as they were to them... Seto knew he would never talk to Mokuba about anything too personal. Mokuba would tell _him_, but he would never do the same. Bakura must have felt the same way about Ryou, the CEO surmised. That meant, just like Seto, that Bakura had nobody he ever really spoke about such things to. It had been nice to talk to him yesterday, perhaps there was something to the whole concept of conversation after all.

"I'm fairly sure this will sound pathetic to someone in charge of an entire corporation," Bakura sighed, continuing anyway. "I cannot deal with normality. No, perhaps that is not it... Things that must seem normal to you confuse me. Taxes, bills, college, other people. Working out how the world functions now and trying to fit into it is more than I can handle. I have to look after Ryou, I can barely look after myself. In fact, I think I have proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that I _cannot_ look after myself. Things were much simpler when I was fighting for survival. Fighting I can _do_." Bakura sipped at his soup again, calming a little. "This place is so far from what I know. I loved the desert, but the only place I remember enough of to call my home is the Ring. Inside it..." Bakura paused again, unsure if Seto would believe him, let alone want to hear it.

"Inside it...?" Seto prompted, interested. Bakura smiled slightly, never having had someone to talk to like this, and continued.

"I have been inside the Puzzle, did you know that? It is ridiculous. So... complicated. My Ring is nothing like that. It has only a few rooms – warm and dark and with everything I would need. I miss that, I could not function properly here. Everything is so over-complicated, and when Keith offered me a way to cope I was weak enough to take it." Bakura admitted. "It made everything seem like it would be alright, if only for a little while. It... the feeling when I took it..." Bakura trailed off and ran a hand through his long hair, sighing. "It made me feel good, I suppose."

Seto wanted to tell Bakura that he didn't need the drugs to feel that way, that _he_ could make Bakura feel that way. He wanted to press Bakura down onto the bed and give him that rush of ecstasy again, only with no needles involved. Only his lips and teeth and tongue, but Bakura still believed this was all about the drugs. Scaring him off was the last thing Seto wanted, because his top priority had to be to make sure that the thief was _well_ before he left.

Not wanting to think about Bakura leaving just yet, Seto took the empty soup mug and handed him the tea, feeling oddly flattered that Bakura had told him something so personal. He made a mental note that Keith was the one who'd first introduced the yami to heroin in the first place, as well. He was _not_ going to forget that, he could make Bandit Keith's life a living hell if he felt the urge. At the moment, he definitely did.

"At least you're strong enough to know that you needed to stop," Seto said, changing the subject before Bakura could mention his involvement with that choice and how it hadn't exactly been much of a choice at all, to begin with. "Do you want me to run a bath for you?"

Bakura nodded, letting the subject lie.

"Yes, thank you." He placed the tea down, more than ready for a hot bath. Seto got up and headed over to set the bath running while Bakura sat on the edge of the bed, picking at the bowl of fruit on the tray because he was sure he needed vitamins, or some such. When Seto came back he was glad of the help standing, having drained what little energy he'd built up earlier. It was also nice having Seto's steady arm around his waist, although he would never have admitted it out loud.

Upon reaching the bathroom, Seto helped him lean against the bathtub and then backed off a little, looking thoughtful.

"Are you going to be all right getting into the bath?" The CEO asked, not sure what he would do if Bakura needed help there. He wasn't sure he would be able to control himself, just seeing Bakura's long, smooth legs again was hard enough.

"Yes," Bakura answered after a moment, seeing the way Seto was staring at him and wondering if it was just his imagination. Well, lust was all fine and good, but he didn't think he could handle anything that strenuous quite yet.

"All right, call me if you need help getting out. I'll be in my office, but I'll leave the door open." Seto instructed, making Bakura smirk slightly at the mothering. Seto was the last person he would ever have expected that from, even having seen the way he acted around Mokuba. It was nice to have someone other than Ryou worry about him though, even if it was only temporary and had nothing to do with actually caring about _him_, as such.

As the CEO left him, Bakura slid the shirt off and slipped into the hot bath, giving a groan of relief as the water warmed his skin. There really was nothing like a hot bath to soothe aching muscles.

XxXxX

On his way out of the door, Seto paused at the sound of a pleasured groan from in the bathroom. He wondered if Bakura knew how sexy he sounded, and guessed that he didn't. The thief seemed almost oblivious to his own beauty, which was strange because he was definitely one of the most attractive people Seto had ever seen.

It was going to be really, really difficult to get any work done after that.

Again.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Note: Yes, it is a real symptom. Well, I may have embellished a bit, but I had their best interests in mind.

Use the Man

Chapter 9

The bath had worked wonders on his aching muscles, but it had also been exhausting. As soon as he'd managed to drag himself out, dry himself off as best he could and get back to the bed – without help from Seto – he'd collapsed on top of the sheets and passed out. By the time he woke up again evening was beginning to set in and he felt a little stronger than he had, but odd, somehow. It took him a few moments of contemplation to figure out exactly what had changed, but when he did it almost made him laugh. His body tingled – not with the itching in his blood that had thankfully mostly abated, but with a desire he hadn't felt in a long time. He wanted to be _touched_, and the longing to feel skin against his own had come upon him so suddenly that he knew it had to be a symptom of the withdrawals. An odd one, though. Running long fingers through his hair and smirking slightly at the ridiculousness of suddenly feeling like a horny teenager again, Bakura carefully got out of bed and headed over to the bathroom on slightly shaky legs, reasoning that cold showers were the universal cure for such an affliction. Surely it would go away once he'd stood beneath the icy spray for a while.

Half an hour later and soaking wet, Bakura suppressed a shiver and dried himself off, pulling on a bath robe. He could still feel the tingling sensation covering his skin, but he could ignore it if he tried. Besides, it amused him to have such a normal, base emotion for once. He didn't intend to do anything about it, though. Although, as soon as he thought about it he had to wonder what it would be like. The only other person around was Seto, and there was no denying that the former priest was attractive. Bakura didn't know if the CEO favoured men or women, but if they happened to be on the same page it might have been quite an experience. Not that it would have anything to do with having any feelings for each other, it would purely have been to sate the lust that seemed to have wrapped itself around him. He wondered what kind of lover Seto Kaiba was. He didn't seem likely to give up his control, but Bakura didn't mind that. There were other ways to be in charge, after all.

Chastising himself for even bothering to contemplate such things, Bakura sighed and toweled his hair as dry as he could get it, the wild spikes dampened down a little from the weight of the water. It was pointless trying to tame it, so he left the unruly mass of white hair to dry naturally, the same way it usually did. He wondered if he looked more like Ryou with his hair damp, and stood in front of the mirror to check. The temperature of the water hadn't been high enough to steam up the glass, and he looked over his reflection critically. No, he decided. He still didn't look anything like Ryou. It was all in the eyes. Ryou's were large and brown and innocent, long-lashed and expressive. Every emotion that he felt ran through his eyes, and when he smiled they lit up with that endless supply of inner light the boy seemed to have. Bakura's eyes were nothing like that. He stared into them for a while, wondering what happened to people who stared into the blackness of their own pupil for too long. Was he supposed to be able to see something in there? A soul, or a spark of life, or some such? The eyes of corpses did look different, he mused, but he'd always thought it was because they never moved. What an odd thing to be thinking about, he realised belatedly. He'd been inspecting his eyes. Right. Well, they were darker than Ryou's. He always managed to look like he was wearing eyeliner, without actually wearing any. It was even worse lately, the shadows deepening and making the colour of his eyes look even darker than before. They were red, that was another difference when compared to Ryou, who had eyes that were the colour of chocolate. His own were a dark, rusty red, like dried blood. He was sure it said something about his personality that the only thing he could think of that was the same colour as his eyes was something so morbid.

He had long eyelashes - he'd gotten that from Ryou, although their eyes were a different shape. Ryou's were much larger and rounder than his own, which just looked generally wicked no matter how he spun it. He wondered what Seto thought of his eyes, then wondered why he was wondering that. Seto's eyes were blue, everyone knew that. His favourite Duel Monsters card was the Blue-Eyes White Dragon, after all. Bakura wondered if Seto being in love with the woman who's _ka_ had been the Blue-Eyes in his past life meant that he preferred women in this one. Love. Now there was a vaguely terrifying word.

Turning away from the mirror when looking into his own eyes revealed nothing usable, Bakura decided that action was called for. He was starting to feel pathetically horny again and had actually thought about the L-word, so it would probably be a good idea to just go right ahead and have sex with Seto. Get it out of his system and move on, since lust usually went away once it had been sated. That was the point, wasn't it? Seto had been giving him some fairly distracted glances and had seemed unduly fascinated by his legs earlier, so unless he was reading too much into it, Seto found him attractive. He would probably be pleased – businesslike as he was – to get the whole lust thing out of the way and go back to being... whatever they were. Acquaintances? Patient and kidnapper? Not friends, because he was sure Seto would hate that term about as much as he did. Back to the point, anyway. Sating the mutual – he hoped – lust. And if it wasn't mutual, at least he'd _know_, which would be something. Hourly cold showers would probably deal with the problem – in a much less pleasant way than he'd prefer – until the feeling wore off. Alright, then it was settled.

Now, how to broach the subject to Seto...?

XxXxX

"I have a problem with one of these withdrawal symptoms, and cold showers are not helping." Bakura said conversationally as he stepped into Seto's office, the door having been left ajar in case he needed anything. This, he assumed, counted. He'd opted for the direct approach with Seto, after half an hour of dithering over how exactly to break the news to the CEO. As such, he was still wearing the bathrobe because it was comfortable, and easily accessible. His mind was also not working within it's usual parameters due to the rather pressing desire to find out if Seto Kaiba had the capacity to feel senseless lust.

The cold showers comment seemed to tip Seto off to the type of problem Bakura was having, and he looked up from his laptop with a raised eyebrow, taking Bakura's slightly damp, robe-clad figure in with a look that definitely counted in the thief's favour.

"What exactly would you like me to do about it?" Seto asked, getting up from his chair and moving unhurriedly around the large desk until nothing separated him from Bakura except a few feet of open space and tasteful carpet.

"I would have thought that to be fairly obvious." Bakura replied, closing the door behind him and leaning against the solid frame, looking slightly flushed from the remnants of his fever and far more disreputable than Seto had ever imagined anyone in a bathrobe could look.

"And you're certain about that?" Seto felt obligated to ask, even though Bakura didn't _seem_ outwardly delirious. The question of wanting Bakura or not never even entered his mind, since he considered that anyone who didn't want Bakura must be either blind or insane.

"It is only sex." Bakura stated, not sure which of them he was lying to more. Seto paused at his answer, wondering to himself if this was 'only sex' the same way as 'it's all about the drugs'. As in, an utter lie that he was sticking to so that he could stubbornly avoid realising that he was probably falling for the mentally unbalanced, socially inept, occasionally murderous ancient Egyptian dead man leaning against the door to his office.

"Alright," Seto smirked, not really putting up much of an argument because he couldn't think of a single reason not to do this. There were probably a lot, but his mind was firmly shutting them out in favour of trying to remember the softest surface in his office. Stalking forward with two quick strides, he slid his hand into the soft, slightly damp strands of Bakura's hair at the back of his neck, enjoying the feeling for a moment before using the hold there to tilt the thief's head back a little. Bakura didn't resist in the slightest, pleased that he was getting what he wanted so easily, and felt his lips covered by Seto's. His eyes fell closed and he parted his lips a little in invitation, raising his own hand to entangle itself in Seto's short hair when he was kissed so deeply and thoroughly that he thought his heart would stop from the way it skipped in his chest. He'd never quite had that reaction to just a kiss before, he could tell the rest of the night was going to be an enlightening experience.

The burning lips moved down slowly along Bakura's angular jaw to his throat, and the attentions being lavished on his pale neck and delicate collarbone felt wonderful. Seto seemed determined to seek out each sensitive spot and use it to his fullest advantage. However, the thief was still far from recovered from the exhaustion of the last few days and he couldn't help a surge of annoyance at his frailty as his knees began to weaken.

The lips against his skin only added to the feeling of being ready to collapse, but admitting that to Seto was not something he was inclined to do. The CEO seemed to know anyway, thankfully. He steered them over to the large, leather chair behind the desk and sat down, bringing Bakura down to straddle his lap. The thief once again shivered as his sensitive throat was assaulted and wondered if Seto always paid such delightful attention to his lovers. The thought of Seto having other lovers sent a stab of irrational jealousy through Bakura and he crushed it down, leaning forward and pressing his lips to Seto's in a kiss that was slightly more possessive than it should have been.

Finding a comfortable position that didn't tire Bakura too much or press against the still tender wound on Seto's leg took a few moments, but it was well worth it in the end. The sex was wonderful – Bakura couldn't remember the last time anyone had made him feel so good – and he didn't even remember how he'd gotten back to bed afterwards. All he could remember was Seto's skin against his and the feeling that _this_ was where he wanted to be, before he'd thrown his head back and moaned Seto's name like the CEO was the only thing he would ever need. It had been perfect, and as Bakura fell asleep back in his own bed he knew that, come morning, he was going to regret it.

There had only been one L-word in his mind when he'd looked into Seto's dark, hungry eyes, and it definitely hadn't been lust.

TBC

Although I'm sure there was plenty of lust as well. Yes, I did utterly cop out of writing a lemon. I'm tired, and I feel more like writing some actual plot at the moment. Also, I thought I'd better actually obey FFN's rules for once before they kick me off here again. Hope you lot're enjoying it anyway!


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